It All Started in a Bank
by lazybum89
Summary: The Dursleys, Harry, Sherlock, John and Detective Inspector Lestrade all walk into a bank. What happens? Nothing good obviously… So what happens after they leave the bank after something tragic happens?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter or Sherlock… they belong to their respective owners of which I am not… Although if I was that would be pretty awesome... not gonna lie.

**NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited and is a prologue now instead of chapter 1.  
**

Background: The Harry Potter time line has been pushed up to the Sherlock time line so this story is obviously going to be AU for both series although I will try to keep certain aspects cannon from both although what is yet to be seen. This story takes place some time between 'The Blind Banker' and 'The Great Game' in the Sherlock series and is pre-series for Harry Potter as Harry is only five.

A/N: Please remember I am American and while I can look up certain things to try to make it sound British it will never be so I beg your forgiveness and to please ignore anything too American or feel free to point it out to me, politely, and to tell me the correct way it should be so I can correct it. :)

**All names that appear in this story that you don't recognize, by the way, are made up by me and are not based on anyone so they are my original characters for this story as they are needed and they needed names so there you have it...**

P.S.: Also all mistakes are my own and this is not beta'd so feel free to point out mistakes too so I can fix them! :)

* * *

Prologue

Future excerpt from John's Blog

Time – Unknown

_I've put off telling this story for a long time. Mostly because it was about my private day to day life with Sherlock and the extraordinary person we decided to adopt into our strange little family, and no that does not mean this is confirmation to our supposed couple status, really how that rumor got started I'll never know, raise him into his adulthood and the extraordinary journey we've all been on, but finally, _finally,_ I've decided to tell the story to you all as I sit here staring at the computer reminiscing about the past as we older folks have a tendency to do._

_Oh, I can remember the laughter during these years along with the heartache, oh was there heartache and many tears shed. Not to mentioned frustrating moments, as anyone who has ever met Sherlock would agree with, but not only from him. There was also a period of terror during these years that I don't think I will ever truly recover from and not to mention the biggest heartache of all, that any parent would agree with. But I can't forget to mention all the joy I've had and the happiness that comes along with being a parent, that I wouldn't trade for anything.  
_

_I've also debated with myself on the numerous ways on how to start this. Should I start this with our terrifying encounters with Moriarty? And make no doubt about it… they were terrifying for all involved, not to mention heartbreaking. Should I start it with any random day at the flat? Or perhaps a memorable one at the flat (and there are more than you could possibly imagine)? How about when the person we adopted into our family finally went away to his spectacular boarding school?_

_After careful consideration, I decided that they only logical place to start would be, of course, at the beginning, when we met and go from there. How did we meet you may be asking yourself? Well, it all started in a bank…_


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

**NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited. I have combined the previous chapters 1 and chapter 2 and made them into one chapter - now chapter 1.  
**

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always! Especially since I didn't expect this story to be so well received! You've all made my day!

* * *

Chapter 1

"Let's go, Potter, we need to leave and Mrs. Figg is too busy to watch you so you have to come with us," said a woman's shrill voice.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," said the small, quiet voice of five-year-old Harry Potter.

"Well, hurry up then, boy, or we will leave you here no matter what the law says," said his uncle, standing by the door, sounding impatient. "We're in a hurry and we have to stop at the bank first. Keep your freakishness to yourself while we're out."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," replied Harry, hurrying and getting his shoes on while dodging the feet of his five-year-old cousin, Dudley, who was laughing at him as he dodged.

"Let's go," said Uncle Vernon, walking out of the house and going to the car with Dudley, Harry, who had managed to put his shoes on in time, and Aunt Petunia, being the last one out to lock the house door, following him.

Everyone got in the car and settled in their seats as Vernon started the car up and drove off to their bank.

"Can I have a lolly when we go to the bank, Mummy?" asked Dudley, looking like he was already imagining the sweetness on his tongue.

"I wasn't planning on bringing you in the bank with me, Duddy," said Aunt Petunia. Harry thought she was talking to his cousin carefully, like she did when she had to tell him that they didn't have any more bacon.

Dudley's obvious short-lived fascination with his imagined lolly came to a screeching halt with that. "WHAT? WHY? I WANT A LOLLY! I always get lollies when we go to the bank! I WANT A LOLLY!" He said that very loudly.

Aunt Petunia exchanged a quick look with Uncle Vernon and they had a very quick and silent argument with their eyes before they both sighed.

"Yes, Dudley, you can have a lolly when we get to the bank. We will all have to go in… And you better behave, boy, and keep your freakishness in check. Understand?" said Uncle Vernon. He started out talking fine but when he addressed Harry, his tone got more threatening.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," said Harry, looking down at his trousers and picking absentmindedly at a hole in the pocket, listening to Dudley let out a laugh and slight cheer at getting his way, wondering all the while what freakishness his uncle was always talking about and how he could control it to get them to like him more.

Harry let out a dejected sigh at that thought and continued to pick at the hole in his trousers for the remainder of the ride to the bank while ignoring his cousin's antics of trying to poke and pinch him.

After what felt like forever to Harry, they arrived outside a big building, big to a five-year-old any way, and Uncle Vernon parked his car in the car park.

"All right, let's go and I'll try to make this quick," said Aunt Petunia, directing the last part to Vernon who had graciously agreed to come with her on his day off of work. She is the one who needed the money, after all, to go shopping for some groceries and she just didn't like those Chip and PIN machines and preferred to deal with cash… you just never knew who was trying to steal your information and hard earned money.

Everyone got out of the car, Uncle Vernon took Dudley's hand and Aunt Petunia, reluctantly, took Harry's, and they headed inside the bank.

For it being a Thursday morning, Harry knew his days of the week, the bank was pretty busy, at least Harry thought so though his five-year-old self had nothing to compare it to, and they had a queue of people, probably about five or six, Harry wasn't quite sure exactly.

Aunt Petunia, Harry, Uncle Vernon and Dudley got in line behind three men, two of whom seemed to be arguing about something; the one man seemed to be exasperated with the other who had a stubborn look on his face while the third man just watched or so it seemed. Harry didn't listen… eavesdropping was never a good idea and he didn't want to get in trouble so he looked down at his trainers as Aunt Petunia let out a sigh, she disliked people fighting in public, thought that should happen behind closed doors, whatever that meant.

And that is when all hell broke loose.

* * *

"Come on, Sherlock!" said a graying haired man.

"I won't do it, Lestrade," Sherlock stubbornly refused.

"And why not?" asked Detective Inspector Lestrade, sounding frustrated with the man already. They have, after all, been going at this for ten minutes.

"Boring and I've got better things to do," said Sherlock simply.

"And on that note, I've got to go to the bank," said John, setting down his tea, expecting to be ignored, like he has been for the past ten minutes, not that he minded, this was, after all, amusing, all things considered.

"I'll come with you," said Sherlock, standing up.

"What?" said John and Lestrade together, confused and incredulous, respectively.

"I hate repeating myself," said Sherlock, crossing his arms.

"Let me get this straight," said Lestrade, "You won't come with me to a crime scene but you will go to a bank?"

"Yes," said Sherlock, heading down the stairs of his shared flat with John and towards the door with Lestrade and John following him.

"Taxi!" said Sherlock as he step out onto the sidewalk, trying to get a taxi to stop to take him and John to the bank.

"I'm not done yet, Sherlock," said Lestrade, grumpily.

John watched them in amusement, though he had the fleeting thought that he should step in sometime soon before Lestrade shot Sherlock out of sheer frustration.

"Come with us then because we are going to the bank," said Sherlock as if Lestrade should have known that was his only option left.

Lestrade looked at John and John just nodded his head that it was fine with him. He was just depositing a check so that his Chip and PIN card would actually _work_, hopefully.

A taxi pulled up to them and they all got in which put a halt to Lestrade's and Sherlock's argument for the moment while they talked about other things while in the taxi.

Fifteen minutes later, they were at the bank and as soon as they step out of the taxi, and John does mean the exact moment that the door to the taxi was shut, Lestrade and Sherlock started arguing again and they continued as they walked into the bank and stood in the queue waiting for John's turn.

A family of four walked into the bank a minute after they did and as they came to stop behind them, John heard a sigh from a woman, probably because she didn't approve of his companions arguing in public… some people were like that, he supposed.

John was just about to open his mouth to tell Sherlock and Lestrade to cool it while they were in the bank when all hell broke loose.

"EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! NOW!" shouted several masked people as they shot their weapons into the ceiling.

"Well, this is unexpected," John heard Sherlock whisper to himself as he got down on the ground.

_'Indeed,'_ thought John.

* * *

_'I'm going to be in so much trouble,'_ thought Harry as he dropped to the ground on his knees with Aunt Petunia who, instinctively moved so she was closer to Uncle Vernon and Dudley so she could protect Dudley, who had let out a loud gasp of fright, and be protected by Uncle Vernon, leaving a slight gap between him and them. Harry thought he saw the three men look his way with slightly narrowed eyes but he didn't know why they were looking his way. He was no one important so he figured they must be looking at the masked people.

"EVERYONE'S EYES ON THE FLOOR! AND DON'T MOVE!" came another shout from the masked people… Harry thought he counted four of them but they were moving too quickly for his five-year-old self to count. He, however, instantly obeyed the command, no need to draw further attention to himself. He learned that from experience when dealing with Dudley and his cronies when they came for play dates to the house or the playground, when he was allowed to go, that that only gets you in even more trouble.

"If everyone listens, then we will be out of your hair in a jiffy," said one of the armed bad guys, because really what else could they be if they weren't bad guys? Good guys didn't shoot guns into the ceiling, did they?

Harry thought he heard two of the three men beside him groan and one let out a noise. Didn't they know they weren't suppose to draw attention to themselves?

"QUIET OVER THERE!" said one of the armed bad guys. Harry wondered where the other bad guys went and what they wanted. His knees were starting to hurt. He really should have sat down on his butt. The bad guys didn't say to get on your knees but it's probably too late to do anything about it now.

"Boring," came the muttered replied from one of the men from bedside him followed by twin groans from his friends. Harry's eyes opened wide behind his glasses. That's not listening…

"I SAID QUIET!" said the bad guy and Harry could see shoes in front of him now. He started to panic slightly. He hadn't said anything. He hadn't even made a peep. Why was the bad guy in front of him?

"Who talked?" asked the bad guy in a dangerous voice.

_'Somehow,'_ thought Harry, very nervously, _'that was more scary than when he was yelling.'_

"Obviously not the kid," said the same man who had said, "boring." Harry saw the shoes move slightly to his right - he thought it was his right anyways… he was too afraid to do the quick "L" trick with his fingers to make sure. He heard two more groans this time and probably so did everyone else in the bank as they waited anxiously to see what the bad guy would do to the first man who dare not listen to him.

* * *

Sherlock had got down on the ground between John and Lestrade and they all looked to their left quickly when they heard one of the children behind them let out a gasp of fright but what they saw caused them all to narrow their eyes, even Sherlock. They didn't need Sherlock's deductive reasoning to work out that something fishy was going on with that family, judging by the obvious gap between the two adults and one child and the other dark-haired child, who was closer to them, perfect strangers.

"Bastards," whispered John and Lestrade under their breaths, unheard by the four gunmen who were walking very determinedly past them and up to where the tellers were. Sherlock wasn't sure if John and Lestrade were talking about the family behind them or the gunmen.

Sherlock's eyes followed the progression of the gunmen and he saw one of the female tellers hit the silent alarm before she came around from behind the counter with her other tellers and got on the ground. That silent alarm was either going to help them all or harm them all and he was going to reserve final judgment until he knew which, though he could hazard a guess at which right now.

Sherlock saw three of the gunmen point their weapons at two of the three tellers and then two of them pulled the tellers to their feet and pulled them in the direction of the vault.

_'What a waste of time to have them get on the floor just to get them up in two point two seconds,'_ thought Sherlock rolling his eyes.

"EVERYONE'S EYES ON THE FLOOR! AND DON'T MOVE!" came another shout from the masked gunmen as three of them led the tellers to the vault and one stayed behind.

_'How dull,' _thought Sherlock. _'These bank robbers cannot even come up with something original or add a threat at the end of their statements, just expecting compliance. If only I can get that kind of reaction when I go to a crime scene...'_

He, nonetheless, complied with the ridiculous command. Sherlock could practically hear the relief from John and Lestrade at him being compliant right now especially since they were. Obviously they were thinking along the lines that money was replaceable, lives weren't, and he agreed if they were comparing lives to money and not a good mystery and/or crime.

"If everyone listens, then we will be out of your hair in a jiffy," continued the gunman who was left behind to watch everyone that was left out front, which included three other customers, not counting the family beside him or behind him, he cannot really be worried about small details such as this right now, the teller who had pushed the alarm, not sure if she is an idiot or not yet, and the bank manager, definite idiot as he didn't even hire a guard but these bank robbers must be even more idiotic if they did not even take the bank manager with them into the vault as he probably has more access than the two tellers.

John and Lestrade let out a groan at what the gunman just said and he could practically _feel_ them glance his way. He let out an indignant sound. How insulting to think he would be the cause of everyone's problems. After all, _he's_ not the one robbing the bank right now. If he were to rob a bank, he would do it in a much smarter way than this! Honestly, how plebeian to walk in, waving guns around and then taking tellers into the vault. Dull!

"QUIET OVER THERE!" said the gunman. He sounded annoyed.

_'Honestly this gunman cannot even threaten properly! Of course, he's just following orders, trying to be tough judging from his stance and the way his eyes keep glancing back towards the vault. He cannot even keep a proper eye on us,'_ thought Sherlock and before he could help himself he said out loud, "Boring."

For some reason, this caused John and Lestrade to groan again, though Sherlock couldn't see why. He was just being honest. This whole scenario was boring though it had started out kind of interesting, now it was just plain dull. He had left the flat to get away from being bored and nagging Detective Inspectors. It obviously hasn't happened though.

"I SAID QUIET!" said the gunman and he started to walk over and stood in front of the dark-haired kid that came with the family but was not currently being smothered by the woman who looked like a horse, though she did tense, interesting, though that could be from the presence of a gun, normal and boring people didn't like them, and the man who looked like he should talk to Mycroft about a diet. The kid that was being smothered between the two of them actually looked like he should talk to Mycroft about a diet as well, now that he thought about it.

"Who talked?" asked the gunman in a dangerous voice.

_'Does he really think that is threatening?'_ thought Sherlock, _'Mummy can do better than that when she is irritated with both Mycroft and myself and oh, I just cannot help myself...'_

"Obviously not the kid," said Sherlock which caused John and Lestrade to groan yet again.

_'Honestly, were they coming down with something? If they were, they shouldn't breath on me,'_ thought Sherlock, irritably, _'I cannot afford to get sick, of all things, right now_.'

There were other groans too but Sherlock paid them no attention. Now, this bank robbery in progress was finally getting a little bit exciting.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

**NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited and is now chapter 2. Nothing major has changed, just has a new chapter number.  
**

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always!

* * *

Chapter 2

Sherlock grinned to himself when he saw out of the periphery of his vision the bank robber move his way. Nothing gets the blood pumping like a dangerous situation.

"Look at me," said the bank robber in what he thought was a dangerous voice. Sherlock could feel the gun pointed at him.

"Isn't that a bit contradictory for the rest of the people in the bank, though. If you make one exception for me, you'll have to make it for the others," said Sherlock as if he were only pointing out that one plus one equals two. He didn't look up though. He did things on his own time like when he glanced up quickly and made his observations about how well the bank robber was watching them, which was poorly, and not the one in charge.

The bank robber shot a round into the floor just in front of Sherlock's right knee. Someone screamed and Sherlock heard one of the kids let out a cry of fright, probably the one who needs to go on a diet with Mycroft, and the other kid let out a startle gasp, judging by the pitch of voice. He was sure the others in the bank had jumped as well because he had felt both John and Lestrade twitch minutely as the bank robber fired and being who they were, it was only logical to assume that the rest of the people in the bank jumped as well and probably much more noticeably.

Sherlock still didn't look up though that was a bit more impressive than just yelling at them to shut up and sit down in a loud voice.

"Do you want to try again?" asked the bank robber.

Still looking at the ground, Sherlock asked, completely ignoring the question, "Why do people always assume that shooting the ground or ceiling makes you somehow more tough and make people more compliant to do what you want them to?"

"Because it usually does," said John and Lestrade together, before the bank robber could, as if he should know that and sounding incredulous, though they really shouldn't have been.

"Quiet," the bank robber growled at John and Lestrade.

"Now that's hardly fair. You can hardly expect to be talking to me and having me answer you back without expecting others to want to talk as well. It's just not logical," said Sherlock, speaking to the floor and shaking his head as if disappointed with the bank robber for not thinking.

"You shut up too. If you recall, I told you to look up at me," said the bank robber angrily sounding as if he was going to pull the trigger of his gun again and hit something other than the floor, "and if you don't do it in the next two seconds, one of your mates will be getting hurt. Probably the one in the jumper, it offends me."

Sherlock looked up at that as John frowned, still looking at the ground; there was nothing wrong with his jumper.

"His jumper _offends_ you?" asked Sherlock, sounding incredulous, acting as if he were only looking up at the ridiculousness of the statement and not that he was actually worried about John being shot or hurt… wouldn't do for his reputation in front of witnesses who could hold it against him.

The bank robber shrugged and was about to open his mouth to reply when his three fellow bank robbers came back out of the vault, carrying satchels presumably filled with money, pushing the two tellers and shoving them on the floor in front of the counter.

"Just shut up and look at the ground. No more talking, understand?" said the bank robber and he shoved Sherlock's head down into his chest for good measures.

Sherlock still mumbled to himself, but it was loud enough to be heard by the bank robber, John and Lestrade, "What's the point in asking a question like that if you don't want an answer?"

John and Lestrade barely managed to suppress their groans in time as the bank robber choose to ignore what Sherlock said as his fellow bank robbers walked up to him.

"Everything okay?" asked one of the bank robbers. "We heard a shot."

"Yeah," was the reply. He didn't explain further and his companions didn't ask him to.

"Let's go," said another bank robber.

"Thank you all for your cooperation. No body try to follow us out or you'll be hurt in a bad way!" said the final bank robber. You could practically hear the grin and excitement in his voice.

After that final pronouncement the bank robbers all headed towards the exit and left out one of the doors to get to the lobby part of the bank.

When everyone heard the door shut to the main part of the bank, no body moved from their positions that they were in for a moment before Sherlock looked up, cautiously, he liked breathing after all, and saw that the bank robbers were headed towards one of the other doors to leave the building completely.

"They're leaving," he said to the room at large and slowly started to stand up.

Lestrade quickly looked up, turned to the three tellers, while still on his knees, and asked, "Did one of you hit the silent alarms?"

The only female teller nodded her head that she had while the rather obese man who was beside them asked, rather angrily, "Why the bloody hell does that matter?"

Sherlock saw that everyone was slowly standing up at this point and the dark-haired boy swallowed and looked nervous and Sherlock could tell it wasn't from the bank robbery that had just taken place. His eyes kept shifting towards his so-called family and the two adults kept giving him a look that promised retribution for this bank robbery as if it were his fault. But they couldn't possibly blame this on a five-year-old child?

"Because," Sherlock said looking away from the family as a gun shot and police sirens were heard outside. He estimated they had about one minute forty-four seconds tops before things came to a head, "That means this probably isn't over yet. I hope Anderson doesn't do negations. He is a right idiot."

"Don't be ridiculous… He's Forensics," said John, sounding offhanded, while taking a quick look around the bank.

"What about Donovan?" asked Sherlock, sounding pain.

"She's at the crime scene with Anderson," said Lestrade, "where we," he gestured between himself, Sherlock and John, "are supposed to be."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and said, "This was much more exciting and is going to become much more exciting than just a plain bank robbery." His thoughts on the family's strange behavior being replaced by the upcoming hostage situation as there was no way for any of them to leave. The only way out was blocked by the bank robbers and gun fire.

"I never thought I would see the day," said Lestrade to himself.

Everyone was watching their conversation in confusion, except John, who nodded his head slightly in agreement.

"What do you mean?" asked the small voice of the dark-hair boy who had been unceremoniously abandoned by his guardians when the bank robbers stormed the bank.

"Don't talk them, frea-, boy," said the obese man.

"Come here," said the woman and she gestured to the general area around her, her husband and son and then she pinched her lips together.

The boy moved closer to them but he stayed at least an arms length away from the man.

Everyone in the bank frowned at the slip of the man's tongue, Sherlock in particular had a curious look on his face, his thoughts going right back to their behavior and replacing the upcoming hostage situation. Everyone knew that the man was about to say "freak" in regards to the boy and it didn't sit well with any of them along with what seemed like an unconscious gesture on the boy's part to stay out of the man's reach.

"No, that's a good question," said the bank manager, throwing a look at the man. "What do you mean and are you with Scotland Yard?" He sounded angry at the last part, like he couldn't believe they hadn't tried to stop the bank robbery.

"I am, they're not," said Lestrade gesturing to John and Sherlock and that is as far as he got in his explanation before the door to the bank burst open again. The bank robbers were back and they looked mad, even through their masks.

"We're about to become hostages," said Sherlock simply as the robbers and now hostage takers pointed their guns at them again. He just knew that silent alarm was going to harm them more than help them.

* * *

Mycroft was sitting in his office enjoying a cup of tea, reading reports from his operatives and having a nice, relaxing day as his brother hasn't caused him any major problems today unlike all week… He doesn't even want to think in detail about all the problems Sherlock caused him but suffice to say, he will no longer look at taxis, coat hangers, chewing gum and toenails the same way again. Sherlock can get into quite the bit of trouble when bored and Doctor Watson has to work a shift at the surgery.

Mycroft's reading and musings were interrupted by a loud knock on his office door.

"Enter," he said, sounding distracted.

"Sir," said his assistant, who he was pretty sure was still going by 'Anthea' these days as she was fond of the name, "There is a situation developing at a bank. It is believed to be a bank robbery turned hostage situation."

"Why are you telling me this and not letting Scotland Yard know?" asked Mycroft with slight confusion but also dawning comprehension before Anthea even began to speak again. He shook his head. Not even one day…

"Scotland Yard is already on scene and I'm telling you because this bank is the last known whereabouts of Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade," said Anthea, looking at her Blackberry to confirm the details that were no doubt emailed to her.

Mycroft closed his eyes, as if praying for patience and hoping, for once, that his brother and his friends managed to slip their surveillance especially knowing the statistics on hostage negotiations and survival rates, and asked, "Is it confirmed that they are in there?" He didn't open his eyes yet.

It took Anthea a moment to answer, in which time Mycroft still didn't open his eyes, before she said, "Yes, sir."

Mycroft took a deep breath, opened his eyes and said, "Right then, I had better make some phone calls… Wait here for further instructions," and then he said to himself, "I would hate to have to explain this to Mummy."

Mycroft picked up the phone and started dialing as Anthea stood there, pretending she didn't hear that last statement, fingers hovering over her Blackberry, waiting for her instructions on what to do next.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

**NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited and is now chapter 3. Nothing major has changed, just has a new chapter number.**

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always!

* * *

Chapter 3

**_Twenty-four hours later…_**

The scene at the bank was a mess thought Mycroft as he observed from the back of his limousine. His brother really knows how to get himself into some really serious situations, though he really cannot blame this one on Sherlock this time. All he had done was go into a bank. Mycroft hasn't had a chance to go over the security camera with a fine tooth comb yet though.

And where was his brother anyway. Everyone should be out of the bank by now, whether they be walking or in body bags. He glanced in the direction of the ambulance… those unfortunate, surviving family members.

Mycroft let out a sigh. His brother knows he hates showing his face when there are news cameras around, but this situation really worried him and Mummy and they both would not rest until Mycroft could ascertain whether or not Sherlock was all right or not.

He let out another sigh after two minutes of silent contemplation. There was nothing else for it. He was going to have to get out of the limousine and… talk… to the one in charge of the fiasco and find out what was holding up his brother inside the bank. Bloody younger siblings and the things older siblings do for them.

Mycroft opened the door, stepped out of the limousine with his umbrella, you never knew when it was going to rain in London and better be prepared Mummy always said, and shut the limousine door.

He had just straightened his suit, which was rumpled from sitting in the limousine, when the doors to the bank opened and several people came out. Most he did not recognize but he recognized three of them at once having… detained… two of them at one point or another and one being his own brother who…

Was he carrying a child? Why was his brother _carrying _a child? _Willing?_ And was Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector walking beside them as if they were going to protect them both from anything they deemed a threat?

What in the world happened in that bank in the past twenty-four hours?

Oh... He could feel a headache coming on, the kinds of which only Sherlock could give him.

"Anthea?" said Mycroft quietly as he saw his brother and company head his way.

"Yes, sir?" she replied from his side, phone in hand.

"Send all the footage from the bank to my office so I can go over it. I want all of it. From the moment my brother walked into the bank until right now."

"Yes, sir," she replied and she moved off to the side and started doing as asked.

His brother was now three feet away and then he, Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector stopped walking and Mycroft took a couple steps in their direction and stopped and everyone, except for the child in Sherlock's arms, stared at each other. The child had his head on Sherlock's shoulder, avoiding looking at anyone.

Then Mycroft said, raking his eyes up and down his brother's form trying to see if there was any visible damage, "Sherlock." In that one single word, he asked many things of his brother.

"Mycroft," said Sherlock simply and in that single word, in his normal, almost scathing tone when addressing him, Mycroft knew Sherlock was suffering no lasting damage from his ordeal.

"So I see you suffer no long lasting side effects from your ordeal over the past twenty-four hours," said Mycroft posing it like a statement. He was going to double check the bank footage either way but he would rather his brother tell him, especially since there was no audio and lip-reading was a tedious task.

"So it would seem," said Sherlock, not giving anything away, though there was a hint of a smirk.

The child shifted slightly in Sherlock's arms as Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector watched the conversation. Mycroft let out a sigh. His brother was going to _make him ask_ what happened.

"Who is the child?" asked Mycroft, beating around the bush of asking what actually happened inside the bank during the last twenty-four hours for the moment. The child was actually a more pressing issue at the moment since he seemed attached to his brother and he was about ninety-three point seven percent positive that his brother did not kidnap him.

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Sherlock which caused the child to jump and Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector to look at him in shock.

Mycroft simply raised an eyebrow at him and said, "I did not say a word."

"You were thinking it," said Sherlock testily.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one he does that to," the Detective Inspector said to Doctor Watson who nodded his head in agreement.

Mycroft and Sherlock both ignored them and the child stared at them all with wide eyes behind his glasses.

"What was I thinking?" asked Mycroft as if he didn't have the foggiest idea of what Sherlock was talking about.

"If I were going to kidnap a child, I would be more creative than to take them into the bank to make them pick up their own ransom. Give me some credit, Mycroft. I'm not that boring!" said Sherlock. He looked indignant at the very thought.

Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector just shook their heads at him and the Detective Inspector also added, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

_'Smart man,'_ thought Mycroft. He would hate to do something unfavorable towards the man. He was actually quite good at his job, despite what Sherlock thought, and he got results.

Suddenly there was a breeze and the wind blew the child's bangs off his forehead.

_'Somebody upstairs hates me,'_ was Mycroft's next immediate thought as he got a look at the boy's forehead and knew immediately who it was. No further introduction was needed for him.

"You know who he is!" said Sherlock at once.

Of course, he couldn't hide that from his brother no matter how blank he kept his face. Mycroft let out a sigh. Somebody really hates him. What did he ever do to deserve this kind of punishment? He was a mass murderer in a previous life, wasn't he, and this is his repayment. It was the only logical conclusion he could draw.

"Don't ignore me, Mycroft!" said Sherlock.

Mycroft let out another sigh and cast a glance around at all the bystanders. If there was any possibility that _they_ thought he was in the bank… No better continue this conversation somewhere else.

"Mycroft!" said Sherlock.

No doubt if his hands weren't full Sherlock would have thrown something at him by now, thought Mycroft. He just can't let anyone else gather their thoughts.

"Mycroft!" said Sherlock and he sounded exasperated this time.

"Come with me," said Mycroft finally looking back at his brother and his friends, even if he won't admit it to himself yet. "We need to get out of sight. I hate cameras."

Sherlock shifted the child to his other side, obviously he was getting a little heavy but he was reluctant to put him down, interesting, and he gave his brother a hard look. Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector just sighed, which they probably spent a lot doing in the past twenty-four hours.

After another moment, Sherlock nodded his head and both Sherlock and Mycroft, who pivoted, headed towards the limousine, expecting the other two to follow them.

John and Lestrade exchanged a look, let out another sigh and followed the two brothers. They came to a mutual agreement that the Holmes brothers weren't even worth the argument any more as they caused ulcers and they would never see what they did was wrong anyway.

Anthea, who was still busy texting on her phone, reached with one hand and opened the door to the limousine to let her boss and his company into the car.

"Shall I sit up front with the driver?" asked Anthea, attention still on the phone.

"If you don't mind," said Mycroft, but he made it sound like an order. John wondered how he did that.

"Yes, sir," said Anthea. She glanced up for a second and she looked shocked that Sherlock was holding a child before her face blanked again and she looked back at her phone, waiting for everyone to get in to the limousine so she could shut the door.

Sherlock looked at the child and said, "I have to put you down so we can get into the car, all right?"

The child nodded his head slowly and glanced at Mycroft nervously.

"He's harmless," said Sherlock as he set the child down on his own two feet.

Mycroft looked insulted at that. _He _wasn't harmless. _He_ was feared by many.

"See? Just look at his face," said Sherlock.

The child looked over at Mycroft who quickly got rid of his insulted face and looked annoyed. Unsurprisingly, that only made the child more nervous and to Mycroft's internal surprise, Sherlock, Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector all scowled at him.

The child gestured to Sherlock to get down to his level and Sherlock did so and the child whispered in Sherlock's ear, or he thought he did but everyone could hear, "He's not like _them_, is he?"

Sherlock, Doctor Watson and the Detective Inspector all scowled briefly to themselves before Sherlock blanked his face and said to the child, "No. He's not like them at all. He's, as much as it pains me to say it, and believe me it pains me a great deal, young Harry," Mycroft sighed to himself, he hates it when he is right, "my brother is really _nice_ to those he cares about… in a twisted, stalker –"

"That's enough, Sherlock," said John. Harry was looking a little freaked out at the last bit.

"Yes, right," said Sherlock nodding his head. "The point," he continued, "is that Mycroft is harmless. Isn't that right, Mycroft?"

Sherlock gave him a look that said he better tell Harry that he was harmless or so help him he would find heads and toes in all of his refrigerators.

"I'm completely harmless, Mister Potter," said Mycroft in a dry voice. "Please do get in the limousine now." He got in himself and waited for everyone else to get in after that little bombshell he had just dropped. He only regretted not getting a proper look at his brother's face; it was so hard to shock him.

Unsurprisingly, the first person in the limousine after him was Sherlock who gave his brother a contemplative look as he sat across from Mycroft. The next person was Lestrade who sat on the seat between Sherlock and Mycroft. He was followed cautiously by Harry who sat immediately right beside Sherlock, in the farthest seat from Mycroft, who didn't know how he felt about that right now but that was the least of his problems for the moment if the child was afraid of him. Doctor Watson got in last and sat in the last available seat beside Harry.

The door shut with a snap after that and Anthea got into the front.

"Back to the office," said Mycroft.

"Yes, sir," said the driver.

Mycroft then raised the partition. He didn't want any potential conversation overheard, even from his own trusted staff, though his driver was new so he was not completely trusted yet.

They rode in silence though. No one was willing to break the silence and Sherlock was determined to stare at him and not blink at all.

The child, Harry Potter, was oddly still. Weren't children more active and more animated when riding in a vehicle? Then again, he was just involved in a twenty-four hour hostage situation so he is probably exhausted. Yes, there he goes, lying his head on… Sherlock's shoulder, and Sherlock is letting him, what is the world coming to?

Mycroft seriously hopes his brother realizes he cannot just take in stray children… they are not pets. Mister Potter has a family that he has to go back to.

Sherlock's stare got even more intense as that thought crossed Mycroft's mind. Not for the first time, Mycroft wonder if his brother was a mind reader as he knew his own facial tells and ticks were nonexistent at this point.

Then there was Doctor Watson's and the Detective Inspector's reaction as they walked out of the bank as well that Mycroft had to consider especially since they were the levelheaded ones when dealing with anything related to Sherlock. But they seemed to be on the same page as Sherlock in consideration with Mister Potter.

Which lead him to the same question: What the hell happened in that bank for the last twenty-four hours?

He let his thoughts drift after that for the remainder of the ride that lasted a total of twenty minutes, this driver obviously knew some short-cuts. As long as he was not a traitor, Mycroft would enjoy this man's driving abilities.

The limousine stopped and the driver and Anthea got out and the driver opened the door. Mycroft exited the limousine first followed by Lestrade and John.

Sherlock looked down and saw that Harry had fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake him, since he knew children needed sleep, even though he thought it was dull, and he knew Harry barely got any last night due to the situation they were in, he decided to carry him. Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it, Harry was on the light side so Sherlock moved him into his arms, slid in the seats until he was at the door and got out of the limousine, without causing injury to himself or Harry. He was quite pleased with himself. He then moved Harry into a more comfortable position on his shoulder, without losing Harry's glasses which were still miraculously on his face, as holding him like an offering to some sort of deity was uncomfortable for both of them.

Sherlock looked up at everyone and saw everyone looking at him.

"What?" he asked, a bit defensive but quietly, least he wake Harry up.

"Nothing," said John and Lestrade, though they were grinning like fools at him.

Mycroft simply didn't say a word to him, just gave him a weird look.

"Anthea, you can go to your office and finish up what I asked you to do there," said Mycroft.

"Yes, sir," said Anthea, not looking up from her Blackberry as she headed off towards her office.

"Follow me," said Mycroft to Sherlock, John and Lestrade.

He led them through the corridors until they got to his office. He opened the door and let them in.

"You can lay Mister Potter on the couch," said Mycroft, gesturing his brother towards the couch that was out of the way but still in the line of sight of anything in his office.

Sherlock nodded once and laid Harry down on the couch. He looked at him for a moment, considering, before he took the blanket off the back, what Mycroft was doing with a blanket on his couch Sherlock would never know and he didn't feel like deducing right now, and covered Harry with it. Then he reached over and took Harry's glasses off his face and put them on the table beside the couch, least Harry breaks them in his sleep.

Satisfied that Harry was as comfortable as he could make him, it was Mycroft's couch after all, he turned back to Mycroft, John and Lestrade who were staring at him.

"What?" he asked again. Honestly the staring was getting old, not to mention confusing. Did he have something on his back? Did he sit in something?

"Nothing," said John and Lestrade, again, grinning at him like idiots.

His brother still did not say anything; just gave him a calculating look. Sherlock stared at him as well. That confirmed it. He must have sat in something. First chance he got where it wouldn't be suspicious, he was going to the bathroom to check what it was and try to remove it.

After a few minutes of silence and staring, both Mycroft and Sherlock saw out of the corner of their eyes, John and Lestrade exchange a look and simultaneously roll their eyes. Both Mycroft and Sherlock felt insulted. What was that suppose to mean?

Before they could voice anything, there was a knock at the door and Anthea came in with tea and biscuits, her Blackberry put aside for the moment. She put the tea and biscuits down on Mycroft's desk and left, without so much as a word to anyone.

"Sit down," said Mycroft gesturing to the three seats in front of his desk.

John and Lestrade sat down, they were exhausted after all. They were up all night and the day before. Sherlock let out an indignant noise at being bossed around but he sat down regardless, if he did sit on something he could get it on his brother's furniture or he must be more tired than he let on.

"Have some tea and biscuits," said Mycroft, gesturing to the aforementioned items.

"Do you have to make everything sound like an order?" asked Sherlock.

"I do not," Mycroft responded back immediately sounding indignant.

John and Lestrade ignored them both and went straight for the tea and biscuits as Sherlock and Mycroft continued back and forth. They were going to need as much help as they could get to deal with both Holmes brothers.

"You do," said Sherlock sounding stubborn.

"Just drink the tea and have something to eat," said Mycroft, sounding fed up with the line of conversation already.

Sherlock gave an indignant sniff but he took the cup of tea that John had poured and took the biscuits that Lestrade had passed him.

They ate and drank in silence with the occasional snore from Harry.

When they were finished, Mycroft looked at them and said, "Tell me what happened in the bank."

John and Lestrade looked at Sherlock who had folded his hands in front of him and said, "Tell me how you know about Harry."

Mycroft waved a dismissive hand and said, "If you are somebody in the British Government then you know about Harry Potter and what he did and how important he is to some people. Now tell me about the bank."

"To some people? But not to you? You didn't answer my question," said Sherlock, sounding inpatient.

Mycroft let out a sigh and said, "If you, Doctor Watson and Detective Inspector Lestrade tell me about the bank situation first, in full detail without omitting anything, then I will let you know all about what I know about Harry Potter."

"Why do we have to go first?" asked Sherlock, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm older than you and I said so," said Mycroft drily.

"That doesn't work any more! We're not children!" said Sherlock, sounding exasperated.

"Then stopping acting like one for God's sake," said Mycroft, sounding exasperated himself.

Sherlock looked at his brother while John and Lestrade stayed quiet, watching the exchange. It didn't do to interfere between a Holmes brother when they were fighting each other. You rarely left it unscathed as they had learned in the past.

"Fine," said Sherlock after a moment. "Where would you like us to start?"

"The moment it became an official hostage situation," said Mycroft, as if it were the most obvious place to begin.

Sherlock, John and Lestrade thought for a moment before Sherlock leaned back in his chair and said, "Right then, here's what happened…"


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

**NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited and is now chapter 4. Nothing major has changed, just has a new chapter number.**

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! You guys blew me away last chapter! :)

* * *

Chapter 4

"Fine," said Sherlock after a moment. "Where would you like us to start?"

"The moment it became an official hostage situation," said Mycroft, as if it were the most obvious place to begin.

Sherlock, John and Lestrade thought for a moment before Sherlock leaned back in his chair and said, "Right then, here's what happened…"

"Wait a moment," said Mycroft as he searched his desk for something.

"What now?" asked Sherlock, sounding annoyed. "First you ask me to start and now you interrupt me right before I begin?"

Mycroft ignored him until he found what he was looking for, which happened to be a blank tablet and pen, and said, "I wish to take notes so I can compare."

"For when you watch the bank footage?" asked Sherlock sounding bored as if Mycroft was wasting his time.

"Yes, precisely," said Mycroft and he had his pen poised over the tablet.

"Does he even know how to take notes?" Lestrade asked John who snorted. Mycroft ignored them while Sherlock grinned. He knew there was a reason why he kept the inept Detective Inspector around.

"Whenever you are ready," said Mycroft, ignoring the childish behavior going on in his office with practiced ease as he looked at his brother with a straight face.

"Right," said Sherlock still grinning. "Here's what happened after Lestrade's very inept colleagues forced the bank robbers back into the bank…"

* * *

**_Twenty-five hours before…_**

The bank robbers now hostage takers pointed their guns at everyone in the bank and everyone instinctively raised their hands, even Sherlock who frowned slightly as he had never gave into demands that weren't uttered before in his life, though the hostage takers were angry, it was practically palpable, and everyone could tell, so perhaps it was a good thing.

Sherlock, John and Lestrade could also tell they didn't plan for this eventuality. They actually believed they could come in the bank, get the money and get out without any problems and wasn't that just a recipe for disaster. Sherlock wanted to laugh at their stupidity but refrained himself, just barely.

"You three," said the suppose leader of the hostage takers to his companions, why else would he be giving instructions after all, "watch them for a minute while I think."

Sherlock, again, barely held in a snort at that but no sound escaped him and for that everyone in the bank, John and Lestrade especially, was grateful.

The leader, who was the tallest of the four hostage takers, started to pace and run his hand not holding the gun over his masked head as he talked to himself to work out a plan, not looking at the hostages, which could either be a good thing or a bad thing.

Sherlock also noticed a bulge on his left ear under his mask. What was that? Deformed ear? No. Not that kind of bulge. Headphones? No. No cord, though it could be hidden beneath his clothes, but Sherlock doubted it because who would use only one headphone, especially while robbing a bank? Bluetooth? Most probable. So who was he talking to because he was definitely talking to someone. You don't call yourself 'sir.' When did he make the call as well? When he was on his way back inside the bank? He needs more data.

_'So not a complete idiot though obviously not the leader of this whole operation and that would explain where the guns came from as they aren't easily accessible. I wonder if he will do something about this whole thing as his employees got themselves into a right mess,'_ was Sherlock's conclusion and thought so far as he watched the leader pace and mutter to himself about what he planned to do to get himself and his companions out of this mess with his boss on the other end of the Bluetooth connection.

After a couple of minutes, the leader seemed to have a rough plan formed with his boss as he turned back to the hostages, who hadn't moved a muscle, and said, "All right. First things first. Mobiles, wallets, purses from everyone old enough to have one." He spared a disparaging look at the two children, one who was sniveling beside his mother and father, the other who looked petrified but was silent by the same woman though not too close. "Right now! Get them out and have them ready to give to me when I'm standing in front of you!"

_'Definitely not an idiot or his boss isn't an idiot,'_ thought Sherlock as he reached into his pocket for his mobile.

"Don't think of sending out any text messages either or I will shoot you and you will be one less person I have to deal with," said the leader, as he cocked the hammer back on his gun and pointed at a random person to make his point, as everyone scrambled to do what they were told.

_'Hmm… they're getting better with the threats though not as good as what Mummy can do. Granted Mummy doesn't use loaded weapons,'_ thought Sherlock as he put his mobile in his hand. He didn't grab his wallet before he left the flat as he didn't expect to pay for anything today since John was the one who had to deposit his money and that meant anything they did today that needed paying for was John's treat.

By sheer bad luck, at least according to Sherlock's standards, the leader didn't start with him but headed towards the tellers and bank manager first to get their things.

_'Ah, obviously he wants to know who hit the alarm and caused this mess,'_ thought Sherlock and those four are the first obvious choices. _'Great, so I'm just suppose to stand here with my mobile looking like my companions, like an idiot? Why can't anyone be original?'_

With the gun still in the ready to fire position, he walked up to one of the two tellers who went into the vault to give them the money and took the mobile and the wallet he held out. He opened the wallet and ignored every thing in there but the teller's identification card and closed the wallet again and tossed both the mobile and the wallet well away from everyone to the other side of the bank where they both hit the wall which the mobile didn't like very much as it ended up on the floor in two pieces with its battery out completely. The teller flinched quite noticeably at that.

"Tell me, Mr. Wall, did you happen to step on or push any silent alarms that would bring Scotland Yard to the bank?" asked the leader, softly, sounding deceptively calm.

Mr. Wall shook his head quite frantically and said, in case there was some doubt what the head shaking meant, "No."

The leader gave Mr. Wall a hard stare, gun still pointed at him, for a minute which made him and every one of the hostages, except for Sherlock who had an extremely bored look on his face as he held out his phone, nervous. John and Lestrade were use to this type of situations, who wouldn't be when in the company of one Sherlock Holmes and their professions, current or not, but they were nervous for Mr. Wall and the woman who did hit the alarm as they didn't know how the leader would react.

"I believe you," he said simply. "Don't do anything stupid though. I would hate to send you back to your family in a body bag."

Mr. Wall gulped rather audibly as the leader moved to the next teller who went into the vault with them to get the money. The leader held out his hand as he simultaneously pointed the gun at him and the teller gave his mobile and wallet as well. Once again, the leader held the mobile while he opened the wallet, ignoring everything but the identification card before he closed the wallet and threw both items to the other side of the bank where they hit the wall and his mobile met the same fate as the first one.

"Mr. Jackson, did you happen to step on or push any silent alarms that would bring Scotland Yard to the bank?" he asked this teller, sounding yet again, deceptively calm, bringing the gun back up to point at him which he had lowered when he went through the man's wallet.

Mr. Jackson's reaction was very similar to Mr. Wall's. He shook his head and said, "No."

The leader, again, gave the teller a hard stare to determine how truthful he was being which made everyone, again, except for Sherlock, very nervous.

"I believe you," the leader repeated again and he repeated his warning about not doing anything stupid though he omitted the family part as Mr. Jackson didn't have one though Sherlock thought it was obvious from the lack of a wedding ring or pictures in the man's wallet, he after all wasn't that far from him, which is why it was incredibly frustrating that he wasn't next.

The leader moved on to the final bank teller who everyone knew, the hostages at least, hit the alarm. He pointed his gun at her and held his hand out for her mobile phone and her purse. She handed them over, arm shaking. The leader opened her purse, took out her wallet, opened it and looked at her identification card. Then he closed the wallet, put it back in the purse and then threw it along with the mobile phone to join the others across the room. Her mobile phone ended up in a similar state as the previous two; smashed.

"Tell me, Ms. Moore," said the leader conversationally bringing his weapon back up, as he dropped it to go through her purse, to point at her, "If your fellow tellers, Mr. Wall and Mr. Jackson, didn't step on or push any silent alarms that all tellers have access to, does that mean you did?"

Sherlock, John and Lestrade all thought he sounded very, deceptively light.

Ms. Moore shook slightly but she didn't answer the question.

"I asked you a question!" shouted the leader sounding angry for the first time since the questioning started. "Did you hit the alarm or not?"

After a moment more of silence, Ms. Moore whispered, in petrified confirmation, "Yes, I hit the alarm."

There was a tense moment of silence from everyone in the bank, even Sherlock was tense as he couldn't turn his head to get a decent read on the leader, if Sherlock didn't know better he would say he was staying deliberately out of his range of vision for as long as possible, as they waited to see what he would do to the woman.

The leader moved his hand with the gun until it was level with the woman's face, as it was previously level with her chest, and he said to everyone in the room, "This is the one and only warning everyone else is going to get against doing something similarly stupid." He then pistol whipped the woman across the face and she dropped to the ground and didn't get up.

Everyone, except the only family, Sherlock and the hostage takers, made a movement towards the woman before there was a gunshot. The leader had shot the ground.

"What did I just say? Don't move! She's fine!" he shouted and he moved on to the next person as if he hadn't just pistol whipped someone and then shot the ground.

The leader now stood in front of the bank manager, with his gun pointed at the manager, and he handed over his mobile phone and wallet as soon as the leader held out his hand, his eyes shooting to his employee worriedly.

The leader opened his wallet, looked at his identification card and closed the wallet. Then he tossed the wallet and mobile phone across the room to join the others, the phone ending up like the others, in pieces.

"Tell me, Mr. Hunt. Did you hit a silent alarm also? I know there is one in your office as all bank managers have one, don't they?" said the leader.

Mr. Hunt, who perhaps was feeling rebellious in light of his employee's plight said, "How the hell am I suppose to know about other bank managers?"

The leader raised his gun so it was level with Mr. Hunt's face and said, very lightly as if they were only discussing the weather, "Attitude, Mr. Hunt. This is the one and only warning you and everyone will get about attitude. It was only a simple question."

"No, I didn't hit the alarm in my office," said Mr. Hunt and Sherlock could still detect a hint of attitude even if no one else could.

The leader stared at him, gun still raised, trying to ascertain if he was telling the truth.

There was a moment in which Mr. Hunt questioned whether he should have quit while he was ahead with the attitude in his responses as it could have possibly gave the man doubt about whether he was telling the truth or not before the leader said, "It's good that everyone so far is telling the truth. I like that."

Sherlock really had to repress a snort at that. Like boring people are going to do something as much as _lie_ when their lives are threatened? He rolled his eyes.

The leader moved on to one of the three other customers that were there before Sherlock, John and Lestrade walked in. Sherlock sighed. He was getting bored standing here, holding his phone. He wanted to be questioned already.

Sherlock glanced around to try to stave off some of his boredness, he doesn't care if its not a proper word, before he got John in trouble because John would no doubt try to do something stupid if Sherlock were threatened. Lestrade, too, would try something stupid if he thought about it.

Sherlock took in the rather small bank he was in. As he already noted there was only one way in or out, no doubt when this was all over Mycroft would rectify that problem. The doors, which were to his right, into the bank were so far unlocked as one of the tellers, Mr. Jackson if Sherlock wasn't mistaken and he rarely was, and the bank manager were the only ones with a set of keys. Then there was the flight of steps and then the doors that led outside.

Inside the bank, Sherlock really had to question why people thought fake potted plants were good decorations. They serve no purpose except to provide good places for people to throw up in, or so he was told by his college acquaintances, so why this bank had one in each of the two corners that he could see and probably ones in the others that he couldn't see, was just ridiculous. The cameras in the corners were a good touch though maybe the plants were suppose to distract people from the fact that they were being recorded?

Then there was teller counter behind him and the bank manager's office to the side of the counter on the right with the vault to the left of the counter. Not much to say about those as they were pretty much self-explanatory at this point.

The windows, however, were the problem though for who was the question: The snipers outside, the bank robbers/hostage takers or the victims in this whole mess? The windows were high up on the wall and pretty normal as much as windows went in a bank and covered with blinds so probably not too good for the snipers outside, though if this ends in a bloodshed, Sherlock has no doubt Mycroft would rectify that problem as well and make a law against having blinds in a bank. In fact, this bank should just be ready for a whole new look when this whole thing is over and to be ready to lose John as their client as there is no way Mycroft is letting Sherlock come here again and there is no way Sherlock is letting John come here again without him. The solution and only possible outcome is this bank is losing John as a client.

The leader raised his gun and held out his hand, Sherlock barely contained a sigh – that's all that happened while he made all his observations? – and the young man handed over his mobile phone and his wallet. The leader opened the wallet and ignored everything, again, but the identification card in there.

"So how about you, Mr. Morgan. Did you call anyone or text?" asked the leader looking at the young man after he closed the wallet and threw both the phone and wallet across the room to join the others. His phone, again, meeting the same fate as the previous ones.

The young man shook his head and said, shakily and very simply, "No."

Sherlock could actually glance at this one and thought he was probably a university student by his age and the way he was dressed. No professional would dress like that. Those trousers did not match his trainers or his sweatshirt. In fact, Sherlock thought he, himself, was mildly offended by the young man's choice of clothes wear. His own Homeless Network can dress better than that and at least color coordinate.

The leader stared at him, like he did with all the others, until the young man looked like he wanted to shift in discomfort, before he said, "Another truth teller. Excellent."

Sherlock was getting antsy now. He couldn't deduce anything more right now especially since he couldn't move and all the bank robbers seemed to be staying out of his line of vision. He started to tap his fingers on his mobile, the only movement he could get away with at the moment. If he didn't have something to do soon, he was going to do something that John would say was a "bit not good."

The leader moved to one of the other customers who got to the bank before Sherlock, John and Lestrade and held out his hand while pointing the gun at him. The man handed over his mobile phone and his wallet, somewhat reluctantly, as if he was handing over his life. Sherlock deduced that he was a business man and his life revolved around his mobile, especially since he was the boss.

The leader opened the man's wallet, looked at his identification card and then closed the wallet. He looked up at the man and said, "What about you, Mr. Davis? You call or text anyone or email them to inform them of this situation?"

Mr. Davis looked at him as if he wished the hostage taker nothing but pain as he watched the hostage taker throw his mobile, which broke into pieces, and wallet to join the others on the other side of the room and said, "No."

The leader, obviously seeing and sensing the hostility from the man, glared very heavily at the man which was very apparent even through the mask, as if he doubted him until the man shifted his weight from one leg to another, losing the hostile look, and then he said, "That's good. I would hate for something unfortunate to happen to you. How would your business continue if you died?"

Mr. Davis gulped and didn't answer, figuring it was a rhetorical question and he was right as the leader moved on to the next customer.

The leader stuck the gun and his hand in front of the man, who handed over his wallet and mobile phone. He opened the man's wallet, looked at his identification card and then closed the wallet. He looked up at the man said, "What about you Mr. Knight? You call or text anyone like your wife or children to let the know what was going on?"

Mr. Knight paled at the mention of his family, shook his head and said, "No. I didn't."

The leader stared at him for a moment longer before he said, "Let's see if the next person can keep this honesty streak going."

_'Please be me, please be me, please be me,'_ thought Sherlock desperately. He was so bored now. His mind was stagnating. _'I can be honest! So please be me, please be me, please,'_ his thoughts continued as if the leader of the whole situation could hear his mental pleading.

As if to spite him, at least according to Sherlock, the leader moved to the family beside him. Hopefully, they don't suffocate the kid that was in their grasp.

The leader this time did it differentially when going about getting the mobiles and wallet/purse from the family. Instead of pointing the gun at the person in question, he pointed the gun at the child between the two parents and held out his hand.

Sherlock could see the man getting extremely red in the face; he didn't think it was possible for a man to get that red (and didn't that require further experimentation), and the woman let out a terrified high pitch shriek before they both complied in handing over the requested items rather quickly. The other boy was standing slightly away from them and seemed not to be noticed by the leader in that moment yet.

While the leader was looking through the wallet and purse, Sherlock couldn't help but notice how the man and woman looked at the other boy, as if they were blaming him somehow for it, if the expressions on their faces were anything to go by. He was confused. They certainly couldn't be idiotic enough to be blaming a five-year-old for this, even Anderson was smarter than that and it pained Sherlock to admit that even to himself.

The leader looked up after going through both of their things to get their names and tossed the two mobiles – did they both need one if they were going to the same place as a family? – and purse and wallet across the room to join the others. The mobiles, of course, broke on contact like the others. The man's face got even redder.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, did you call or text anyone to let them know what was going on here?" asked the leader, keeping his gun pointed at the child.

"No, we ruddy well did not," said the man, angrily.

The leader made the facial motion of raising his eyebrows, since his face was covered with a mask, at the man and said, "I believe I gave you a warning already about attitude, Mr. Dursley, but as I can see how this situation is distressing with my holding a weapon on your son, I will let it slide. _This time_. Don't repeat it or I won't be so forgiving and it won't be _you_ who feels my wrath. Understand?"

Sherlock wondered if someone was telling this leader what to say and how to control his temper through that Bluetooth on his ear… that sounded too smart for someone idiotic enough to rob a bank.

Mr. Dursley simply nodded his head, which Sherlock considered it to be the smartest thing that man did all day that he saw.

The leader turned to Mrs. Dursley and said, "Well, I've got your husband's answer. What about you? Did you call or text anyone to let them know what was going on here?"

Mrs. Dursley gripped her son tighter and shook her head and said, very simply, "No."

The leader stared at them for a minute before he said, "We still have a nice honesty streak going on. I like that. Let's keep it up."

He went to move on to the next person when he spotted the dark-haired boy who was standing slightly away from the family and he said to woman, as he didn't seem to trust the man with the temper problem, "Is that one with you too?"

Mrs. Dursley nodded stiffly.

"Keep an eye on him then. You don't know what happens in dangerous situations like these. Anything could happen to brats that aren't being watched properly," he said before turning in John, Sherlock and Lestrade's direction.

Sherlock saw the woman grab the boy, none too gently, and pulled him slightly closer to her but not too close. He frowned slightly to himself. That's not normal socially accepted behavior. At least he did not think it was. Why did he care anyway and what was that unpleasant sensation starting in his gut?

Before he could think on it any more, the leader was in front of John and had his gun pointed at him as he held out his hand. John handed over his wallet and mobile that he got from his sister – Sherlock wondered if Mycroft had a chance to bug it yet – and the leader opened his wallet.

He went through his wallet to look at his identification card and Sherlock saw the leader's eyes narrow on something else behind it. He must have saw John's Army identification card as well. He closed the wallet and tossed it and the mobile across the room where the mobile broke, like the others.

Then the leader moved his gun up to John's face and said, "What about you Mr. Army Doctor John Watson? Did you call or text anyone or are you waiting until you can act like a hero on your own?"

John's eyes widened slightly at how close the gun was to his face, but other than that, he didn't show any outward fear as to what was going on, despite knowing how trigger happy these robbers were. He shook his said and said, "No."

"To which part of the question, Doctor Watson?" asked the leader, not moving the gun an inch.

"Both. I didn't call or text anyone. Nor am I going to act like a hero," said John.

The leader looked at John long and hard, longer than anyone else in the bank, and finally he said, "All right. I believe you, _for now_, and you better not cause any problems either or else I'll shoot you and save myself a headache. Got it?"

John nodded his head. Sherlock didn't like that. No one got away with threatening John and lived to tell the tale.

The leader moved to, finally, Sherlock thought he could jump for joy quite literally, himself. The leader pointed the gun at Sherlock's chest, really how boring, and held out his hand. Sherlock, with a little flourish, handed over his mobile phone.

The leader scowled at him behind his mask and said, "Where's your wallet?"

"I do not have it on me right now," said Sherlock, quite cheerfully. Finally he wasn't bored in this thrilling situation.

The leader looked at him skeptically and John and Lestrade looked like they quite literally wanted to put their faces in their hands. How odd.

"Where is your wallet if you don't have it on you right now?" asked the leader, his eyes raking up and down Sherlock's body as if trying to decide if he could have hidden it in his suit somewhere.

"In my flat," said Sherlock as if the man were an idiot, which he was. Who robs banks anymore? Identity theft was the way to go!

_Thinking of identity theft… No, John could still be in danger… but there is no real way to prove I wasn't who I said I was… John could still be in danger… What are you my conscience? Yes. Fine, I'll give my real name._

"Why would you come to a bank without your wallet?" asked the leader.

"I didn't have any business with this bank so why would I need my wallet?" questioned Sherlock back.

"Then why did you come?" asked the leader. He sounded frustrated and he forgot his own rules. Lestrade would sympathize with him if he wasn't a bank robber or hostage taker. Sherlock tended to do that to you.

"Didn't you ever just need to stretch your legs?" asked Sherlock.

The leader growled, actually growled, and pointed his gun at Sherlock's face and cocked back the hammer. "You want to try that again?"

Sherlock let out a long, suffering sigh before he said, "I came with my flat mate because he needed to go to the bank and I wanted to get away from an annoying person who happened to follow us here."

"_Who_ is your flat mate?" asked the leader, still pointing the gun at him.

"Doctor John Watson," said Sherlock as if it were obvious and it should have been as he was standing right next to the man and Lestrade.

The leader scowled once more at Sherlock behind his mask before he turned his gun back to John and asked, "He telling the truth? He come here with you?"

John nodded his head and said, "Yes, he came here with me."

The leader turned his attention back to Sherlock but kept his gun pointed at John and said, "What's your name then and I better believe it's your real one or your mate here will get it."

Sherlock let out another sigh – really no new threats? – and said, "Sherlock Holmes."

The leader paused for a moment and said, with a question in his voice, "Sherlock Holmes."

"Yes," Sherlock said, almost snappishly. He hated repeating himself, after all, especially to people who had guns pointed at people he could tolerate.

The leader stared at him for a moment and then said, "All right Mr. Holmes, did you text or call anyone?"

"No," said Sherlock, still sounding snappish.

The leader's eyes narrowed behind his mask, then he threw Sherlock's mobile across the room where it broke in pieces and almost hollered, "This is the very last warning anyone is getting about attitude."

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something more but he got an elbow in each of his sides for his trouble.

"You've got a good mate there, Mr. Holmes, to stop you from getting shot," said the leader, the gun now pointing back at Sherlock which made Sherlock slightly happier as it was no longer pointed at John because of him, "and you are lucky I believe you about not texting or calling anyone. Now be quiet, as hard for you as that may be."

Sherlock kept his his mouth closed and got, what John and Lestrade knew as, his thinking face on. Sherlock had obviously wound the leader up enough to warrant being shot so whoever was running the show was either trying not to make a mess too early on or knew who Sherlock was and didn't want to kill him yet, maybe his fan, Moriarty?

The leader was now in front of Lestrade, pointed his gun at him and held his hand out for his wallet and mobile.

As Lestrade was handing over his mobile, it started to ring and everyone in the bank, bank robbers/hostage takers and hostages, except for the woman still on the ground unconscious from being pistol whipped, alike stared at the phone with a morbid fascination and wondered who on earth was calling.

* * *

Sherlock suddenly broke off telling the story and starting coughing and he reached for his cup so he could pour himself a cup of tea. Mycroft couldn't help but scowl at his brother.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

**NOTE 5/5/2013: I have edited this story. Nothing too major. I have added a teeny tiny prologue to the beginning and combined the previous chapters 1 and 2 into one chapter. So you may want to go and read the new prologue too! :)**

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter. Also if you are curious as to why I have edited the story and/or why it has taken me so long to update send me a message, or look at my profile, and I will get back to you as I don't want to take up anymore space or babble on while you want to get on to reading the actual chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always! You guys are still blowing me away with all the support! I love it!

* * *

Chapter 5

Sherlock suddenly broke off and started coughing and he reached for his cup so he could pour himself a cup of tea. Mycroft couldn't help but scowl at his brother.

Then he glared at his brother. Sherlock did that on purpose!

Sherlock raised the cup of tea to his mouth and took a drink.

"Bastard! You did that on purpose!" said Mycroft, resorting to name calling and swearing. His brother was finally in the middle of something interesting besides the phones breaking and he had to "conveniently" go into a coughing spell. How typical!

John and Lestrade raised their eyebrows. It wasn't often that Mycroft was driven to such a point by Sherlock as Mycroft was known to keep his cool and he thought name calling was just downright petty, especially in the company of others. It just goes to show how stressed Mycroft has been these past twenty-four hours.

Sherlock lowered his cup of tea and opened his mouth to respond with a scathing remark when John interrupted first, after he got over his slight shock, and said with his eyebrows still raised, "Now, Mycroft, normally I would agree with any name you would be calling your brother, on principal, not because it's you who called him that but because normally Sherlock deserves it," Sherlock frown at that because how was that helping _him_, as John, not looking in his direction to see his expression, continued, "but is it really necessary to insult your own mother's relationship with your father?"

Sherlock's frown immediately turned into a neutral look as he tried to suppress his grin until he had some coverage as he mentally applauded John in his head and gave him a mental compliment, "Nicely done, John, nicely done." That was the way to get through to his brother and underhanded. He brought his cup of tea up to hide his grin, and of course, to soothe his "cough."

Lestrade wasn't bothering to hide his grin. He was just pleased he wasn't the one being annoyed by Sherlock this time and it had the bonus of ticking off Mycroft which was always a plus in his book especially since Mycroft always thought he was at his beck and call and "abducting" him whenever he pleased.

Mycroft stared at John as if he had never seen him before, before deciding John probably spent too much time in the company of his younger brother and had obviously learned some tricks. He inclined his head and said, "Touché, Doctor Watson, touché." He turned towards his brother and said, "You imbecile! You did that on purpose!"

Sherlock lowered his cup of tea, again, turned his stare on his brother and said, "Can one not have an excess of phlegm in their throat any more, be able to cough to clear it and then have a drink of tea to soothe their sore throat from the coughing?"

"No," said Mycroft drily.

"Now who is being the bas-" John cleared his throat, "imbecile?" Sherlock said, changing the insult mid-word as he didn't want to insult Mummy after all, marvelous woman that she was and her feelings were the only ones he cared about in this situation.

Mycroft just stared at his brother. Then he took a deep breath to focus; it wouldn't do to strangle his brother, think of the all the explaining he would have to do, not to mention all the work and paperwork involved. No better to control his temper.

"Just drink your tea so you can finish telling the story," he said trying to keep his patience with his brother. He has had years and years of practice already; it shouldn't be too hard. It really shouldn't.

"Story? This isn't a story, Mycroft! This was a very traumatic -" said Sherlock before he was cut off.

"Traumatic?" questioned Mycroft, as if he were doubting that the earth was round, the sky was blue and the grass was generally green. "When has anything in your life been traumatic and then you admit to it?"

Sherlock glared at his brother with a look that said, "You know when but I am _not_ going say it out loud."

"I thought so," said Mycroft with a small smirk which caused John and Lestrade to trade confused glances at the exchange they missed and Sherlock to glare at Mycroft even more. "Now will you finish telling your... tale?"

Sherlock, still glaring and disconcerted that he lost another round of verbal sparring with his brother, finished off his tea without answering Mycroft for the moment, taking longer than was extremely necessary.

Mycroft just sighed at his brother's pettiness. He wondered how many times he had done that since this whole fiasco begun.

When Sherlock was done with his tea, he set his cup down, leaned back in his chair, put his hands together in front of him and looked at his brother.

Mycroft let the staring contest go on for a few seconds before he said, "Well? Are you going to continue or not?"

"No," said Sherlock simply.

"No?" said Mycroft, sounding incredibly incredulous and frustrated.

"Is there an echo? No," said Sherlock, still not blinking or looking away from his brother's face.

Mycroft, frustrated beyond belief already with his brother, turned to look at the other two occupants in his office and demanded, "Well? Which one of you will like to continue on?"

John and Lestrade exchanged a look before John inclined his head to Lestrade who said, "I guess I will since it's my mobile that is ringing."

"Hmm, how dull," said Sherlock, still not blinking or looking away from his brother who chose to ignore him for the time being with practiced ease since he was about to get his answer.

"Whenever you are ready then, Detective Inspector," said Mycroft, ignoring what his brother had said.

"Right," said Lestrade, clearing his throat, somewhat awkwardly at the intense stare Mycroft was giving him. He wondered briefly if Sherlock learned his stare from Mycroft or if it was the other way around before he said, "As I was handing over my phone..."

* * *

**Twenty-four hours, fifty minutes before in the bank...**

As Lestrade was handing over his mobile, it started to ring and everyone in the bank, bank robbers/hostage takers and hostages, except for the woman still on the ground unconscious from being pistol whipped, alike stared at the phone with a morbid fascination and wondered who on earth was calling.

Lestrade quickly glanced down at his ringing mobile to see who was calling and noticed it was Sergeant Donovan. He was suppose to be back at the crime scene at least twenty minutes ago.

The phone stopped ringing.

The leader growled, pointed his gun at Lestrade and said, "Who's calling you and why?"

Lestrade said, as calmly as he could knowing how on edge, and trigger-happy these men were, "A coworker wondering where I am."

"Are you the boss or something?" asked the leader with his gun still pointed in Lestrade's face.

"Something like that," said Lestrade as his phone started to ring again. Donovan didn't like to be ignored.

The leader, not liking that answer or the fact that the phone was ringing again, let out another growl and took the mobile, still in Lestrade's outstretched hand, and was about to throw it across the room, if only to stop it from the annoying ringing, when he noticed the caller ID.

"Sergeant Donovan? Why would you have a Sergeant calling you?" asked the leader angrily, his mind immediately jumping to the two possible worse cases in this situation, in his mind at least. "Are you a copper? Or are you in the army like our good doctor over there? Give me your wallet? Carefully." He threw the mobile now across the room after it stopped ringing for a second time and it broke into more pieces than any of the others which just goes to show how much more strength went behind throwing his phone than them, even Sherlock's. Plus he didn't want the phone to ring for a third time.

Lestrade noticed the other hostage takers shift slightly at the possibility that he could be with the police as he was carefully and slowly handing over his wallet to the leader and realized that this could mean trouble for him when they found out and Lestrade had no doubt that they wouldn't find out. He just couldn't let innocent citizens or children get hurt and he couldn't remember if there was anything in his wallet that had "Detective Inspector" on it. At least, they didn't say for him to hand over his badge so it may take a while for them to find out. Hopefully they didn't frisk anyone although they wouldn't find his gun. He doesn't carry when he goes to Sherlock for help for obvious reasons.

He instinctively held back the automatic, "Take it easy," that wanted to come out, as that could identify him as a cop especially since you always hear that line on the telly from them, as the leader actually took his wallet from him.

Lestrade held his breath as the leader opened his wallet and started to go through it. The leader went through Lestrade's more carefully than he went through anyone's. Finally he pulled out Lestrade's driver's license which Lestrade knew didn't have 'Detective Inspector' on it.

"Greg Lestrade," the leader read out before he placed the driver's license back in the wallet and throwing it across the room to join the rest. "So, Greg Lestrade," and Lestrade didn't like how the leader was saying his name, "I didn't find any evidence in your wallet but that doesn't mean anything so, are you a copper?"

Lestrade knew he didn't have too long to think about his answer or else it would be obvious so he went with his first instinct, after all, John was still standing despite it all and he was in the Army and could cause problems, and besides that overweight fellow, Mr. Dursley, looks like he is about to answer for him, and said, "Yes. I'm a Detective Inspector."

The three other hostage takers in the bank exchanged glances and, even though they were still masked, Lestrade could tell they were nervous which made them even more dangerous as they were more bound to panic then.

The leader on the other hand raised his gun some more and said, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you now and save me all the hassle of you and Army Doctor over there trying to plot something to save everyone?"

Sherlock made a derisive sound. Lestrade closed his eyes. This always happened to him. He shook his head minutely to himself. It probably wasn't going to end well either. The leader turned towards Sherlock.

"Something you wanted to say?"

"Yes," said Sherlock.

"What is it?"

"First off, those past couple of lines? Not original in the least, any movie made in the last twenty or thirty years could have told you that," started Sherlock.

"Sherlock," said John and Lestrade, almost immediately, sounding slightly panicked. The hostage takers were trigger-happy after all.

Sherlock ignored them which was nothing new while the rest of the hostage takers and hostages watched them with fascination, as if they couldn't believe this was happening in the middle of the situation they were in.

"What's the final thing?" growled the leader angrily.

"What makes you think it's the final thing I have to say?" asked Sherlock, sounding genuinely curious.

The leader, having learned something while trying to get the man's name and guessing this person was what caused his associate to fire the shot when they were in the vault now that he spent a few minutes with him, pointed his gun at the man's supposed roommate.

"You were saying?"

Even Lestrade could tell that line wasn't original but he could see the way Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly when the leader pointed his gun at John. It made him wonder if there was anything to what Sergeant Donovan was saying at the station the other day. Then he mentally shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about office gossip. When was the idiot outside going to call in anyway? Oh God, he's starting to sound like Sherlock now inside his own head. This day just keeps getting better and better.

It was at this time, one of the phones from one of the teller's station, Mr. Wall's if Lestrade wasn't mistaken, started to ring. Everyone except the leader and Sherlock turned to look at it.

It stopped ringing for a few seconds before it started to ring again.

The leader turned his head to left as if trying listening to something only he could hear. John and Lestrade traded a look while Sherlock just stared at the leader with a gaze that always made people feel very awkward with a small smile on his face which made John and Lestrade trade another look and wonder what on earth Sherlock was smiling about.

The phone stopped ringing again for a few seconds before it started again.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" asked Mr. Dursley, quite rudely, in Lestrade's opinion.

The leader glance in quickly in Mr. Dursley's direction, obviously forgetting he had asked Sherlock a question, before he redirected his gun from pointing at John to the phone and he shot it. Several of the hostages jumped and one of the kids let out a terrified shriek.

"SHUT UP!" shouted the leader and Lestrade had to wonder quickly what caused the leader to unravel because he had suddenly lost his cool and you would have to be blind as bat not to see it as he had started to pace the room.

Another one of the phones started to ring and the leader shot it too before it could even ring for a third time.

Lestrade knows his colleagues are watching the security feed, they have to be, as the hostage takers didn't disable anything, so they have to be able see that their calling right now isn't helping and they should back off for a moment, regardless if it gave away the fact that they could see inside the bank.

The leader suddenly pauses in front of the vault as if considering it and everyone watches him silently, Sherlock included and Lestrade suddenly got a very bad feeling about what was about to happen next.

"Everyone into the vault, please," said the leader in a forced calm and Lestrade had to wonder if the leader didn't suffer from a mood problem and he wasn't the only one wondering it either if the looks on several of the other hostages' faces were any indicator.

"We'll suffocate!" cried Mrs. Dursley, clutching her son to her tighter as if it would somehow protect him.

"Why?" asked Sherlock, though he figured it out. He just wanted the man to admit it.

"EVERYONE IN THE VAULT! NO ARGUMENTS!" yelled the leader. The last part was directed at Sherlock and Vernon Dursley, who both looked like they wanted to protested, much to Sherlock's displeasure as he didn't want nothing in common with the unpleasant, loud man.

The three other hostage takers ushered the fourteen hostages, Mr. Wall and Mr. Jackson helping Ms. Moore as she had just started to come around, into the vault. The leader then shut the vault, essentially locking them in.

After a moment of silence in which no body spoke, not even Sherlock, though there was occasionally sounds of pain from Ms. Moore, and their eyes were able to adjust to the dim light of the vault, there was the sound and outline of somebody moving and everyone heard a male voice say, "This is all your fault, boy, isn't it? You did something freakish?"

"No, Uncle Vernon, I promise. I didn't do nothing," said a small voice in fright. Lestrade realized it was the other boy that was with the family.

Everyone looked in their direction to see that Mr. Dursley had grabbed the boy by his shoulders and was talking very close to his face, giving him the occasional shake to emphasize a point.

"Like I'm going to believe that. You are going to be in _so_ much trouble when we get home, I'll tell you," said the man, Vernon.

"You can't honestly be blaming a five-year-old for something four grown men are doing, can you?" asked Sherlock in his most scathing voice with a cross of his most patent tone which suggested that the man he was speaking to was particularly idiotic.

He also had a frown on his face. This was the second time that he and everyone else had heard the man say the word freak or a derivative of the word in regard to the boy and he had a weird feeling about it… One that he could not identify but made him want to… protect the boy from it. It required further experimentation and research on. Or maybe it was what he had to eat for lunch? Mrs. Hudson's biscuits today did look questionable…

"It is none of your business how I speak to my nephew," said Vernon, glaring at Sherlock while simultaneously shaking the boy again.

Lestrade frowned rather deeply at that along with John and the others who were in the vault, except for Vernon's wife and son who were obviously used to his rough treatment of the boy, and Lestrade said, "You'll find it is _my _business on how you talk to and treat your nephew."

"Any decent person would make it their business," said John to the agreement of everyone in the bank who wasn't related to the man.

"Without a doubt and there is no way a five-year-old is responsible for this so get it out of your infinitesimally small brain," said Sherlock as if he were speaking to an obtuse five-year-old himself. The boy, himself, was staring at them all as if he had never seen anyone like them before.

Vernon sneered at them and opened his mouth to no doubt berate the three of them when Vernon's wife interrupted him and spoke quietly in his ear which caused him to grin slightly. Sherlock, John and Lestrade didn't like that at all, especially since it wasn't exactly a pleasant sight. When she was done whispering in his ear, he straightened up and looked at the three of them.

"Well," spoke up Vernon, moving himself and the boy so that they were both in front of Sherlock, John and Lestrade. "Since you three seem to be so concerned about the boy, you deal with him during this entire mess that we _know_ he caused." He then shoved the little boy at them to their shock as well as everyone else who was watching the scene unfold.

Sherlock, who was standing in between Lestrade and John, caught the boy before he could fall or smack into any of them. It wasn't his fault, after all, that his rather daft uncle shoved him at three people.

"Now wait a minute, you can't just do this," started Lestrade.

"How are you going to stop us? You didn't even stop a bank robbery!" sneered Mr. Dursley.

"That is hardly his fault, Mr. Dursley," said Sherlock as he steadied the boy some more using gentle hands. "Besides, I'm sure we can manage this perfectly well, Lestrade. Think of it as an experiment!"

"I've seen how your experiments ended," said Lestrade with a rare scathing look at Mr. Dursley. He always got touchy when someone, excluding Sherlock, insulted his ability as a policeman.

"Those were obvious failures. This will be a success," said Sherlock with a grin at John and Lestrade.

There were two snorts from the adults of the family which were ignored by Sherlock, Lestrade and John.

"You're already failing the first part, Sherlock," said John.

"No I'm not," said Sherlock.

"Yes you are. Children aren't experiments. You're scaring him. He probably thinks your going to do something very bad to him," said John with a nod towards the boy.

Sherlock looked down at the boy and noticed that John was right while Lestrade looked around at all the eyes on them and said, "Let's move to the privacy of a corner so we can talk. Yeah?"

The boy gulped as they all moved towards a corner where they could have some semi-privacy and have a discussion.

"Right, so I'm John, this is Sherlock," said John nodding his head at Sherlock, "and that's Detective Inspector Lestrade," he finished with another nod at Lestrade.

The boy nodded his head at John while Sherlock said, in derision, "He knows that already from when the leader out there read all of our names."

"It's polite to introduce yourself to someone you meet," said John calmly.

The boy just stared at them as if he were unsure about them as Sherlock just made a disparaging comment at social niceties.

"What's you're name?" asked Lestrade distracting Sherlock from any further comments.

Before the boy could answer though, one of the others, Mr. Knight, who was panicking slightly, asked, "But why did they put us in the vault?"

Sherlock snorted and said, "The leader of the bank robbery didn't want us to see him lose it, to start with."

Most of the others in the vault looked at Sherlock like he grew another head while John frown slightly thinking and Lestrade asked, "How do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Sherlock, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No," said everyone except John, Lestrade and the dark-haired boy, who was watching the three of them intently in only the way a curious child can.

"He had a Bluetooth device in his ear and he was talking to someone when he was collecting all of our information. The person on the other end had obviously hung up on him when the phone rang out there and he wanted us out of his hair for the time being," explained Sherlock.

"How do you know?" asked Mr. Dursley rudely while everyone, except John and Lestrade who were looking thoughtful, looked incredulous.

"I use my eyes and brain."

Mr. Dursley sputtered but before he could say anything Sherlock looked at Lestrade and said, "The leader out there obviously isn't in charge of the whole operation. The person who was on the other end of that Bluetooth connection is. There is possibly a bigger picture here. I just need to find the connection. Are there any other unsolved bank robberies recently."

"It's not my department," said Lestrade at once but he had a frown on his face as he thought about any comments that were made around the station.

Sherlock made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat at that.

"Make all the noises you want but there are departments at Scotland Yard and bank robberies don't fall under mine," retorted Lestrade.

"And what does fall under your department?" sneered Mr. Dursley, determined to find fault with someone for losing his money.

"Murder," said Lestrade, just to shut the man up and it worked as Mr. Dursley sputtered and couldn't come up with a fast enough retort.

There was a lull conversation after that for a few minutes while everyone thought.

Then suddenly from behind the three men, who had all turned to face the rest of the people in the vault, came a small voice that said, "Harry."

_'Small children,'_ thought Lestrade. They usually have horrible timing on answering questions though they had cut the poor boy off and there was the lull in conversation after his declaration for what department he worked with and Sherlock, and everyone else, needed to think with all the data he, they, had so far.

Nonetheless, the three of them turned around at the sound of his voice and John said, "Sorry?"

He looked nervous as he twisted his shirt in his one hand and said, still in a quiet voice, "My name is Harry."

Lestrade looked over at Sherlock and John. Sherlock had an unreadable look on his face, but then unless they were at a crime scene, Sherlock's face was usually unreadable to him in situations like this, not that they happened often. John, too, was looking at Sherlock waiting to see what he would say.

He never got the chance because Mr. Dursley had to put in his unwanted opinion.

"Freak! You are making a menace of yourself!" said Mr. Dursley angrily. He obviously wanted some answers but didn't know the way to go about getting them, especially since he was inserting himself into a conversation where he wasn't welcome.

The boy, Harry, flinched back into the wall of the vault at that and Sherlock turned around on the spot. Uh oh.

"No, Mr. Dursley. You will find that _you_ are making a menace of yourself. You are interrupting an important conversation. Now run your unemployed self back to your wife and son. You gave your nephew to us, remember?" said Sherlock taking one, very unthreatening step towards Mr. Dursley.

Mr. Dursley sputtered and said, "I'm not unemployed."

Sherlock smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant smile, and said, "Keep telling yourself that."

"Why you –" said Mr. Dursley and he took a threatening step towards Sherlock with his hands out, as if he were going to strangle him when Lestrade and John intervened.

"Calm down," said John but Mr. Dursley didn't listen, just kept trying to get towards Sherlock who was watching the scene impassively while the rest of the hostages in the vault stared at Mr. Dursley incredulously. They were all hostages stuck in a vault and this Mr. Dursley seemed intent on strangling another hostage. Unbelievable!

"If you are about to do what I think you are, remember what I said my department was," said Lestrade, "and attempted murder fits under the definition of my department as well."

"Vernon," said Mrs. Dursley clutching her red-faced son to her and Mr. Dursley, who was calming down, looked over at his wife. When she got his attention, along with everyone's, she whispered, as if no one else in the vault could hear, "Think of the neighbors."

Lestrade and John exchanged incredulous looks when they felt Mr. Dursley calm down completely after that. An attempted murder charge won't calm him down but the threat of neighbors finding out what could happen did. Lestrade just shook his head at John as they both let go of him. These people have their priorities wrong and made them wonder what poor, little Harry did to make them hate him so much. After all, if they didn't hate him, why would they give him to three strangers after they made some comments about how they were treating him?

"Yes what _would_ your neighbors think," said Sherlock with an eye roll.

"Sherlock," said John with a sigh at the end and Lestrade couldn't help but agree with John. They had just stopped the man from killing him, no need to make him try again.

"Go back to your wife and son, please sir," said Lestrade, trying to remain professional.

Mr. Dursley just grunted but he walked back over to his family, put his arms around both of them and glared at Sherlock, John and Lestrade, who ignored him having turned back to Harry.

"That man is an overgrown walrus," said Sherlock with an eye roll as he turned his full attention back to Harry and the bank robbery problem.

Harry grinned slightly at the insult, having thought it himself several times.

"Be nice," said John, though he did grin.

Lestrade remained silent.

"I speak only the truth as I see it and my eyes hardly ever let me down," said Sherlock as he rubbed his stomach very slight that if Lestrade wasn't watching him, he would have missed it. Lestrade wondered why he was doing that. He better not be getting sick. A sick Sherlock was even worse than a healthy Sherlock and judging by John's expression he noticed the movement as well and had experience with a sick Sherlock.

Sherlock looked back at Harry, and said, "You don't look like a Dursley, judging from Mr. Dursley's and his son's hair style and color, chin, nose, eye color, et cetera. Your related to them through Mrs. Dursley so you're last name isn't Dursley, correct?"

Harry looked at Sherlock with big eyes, bemused, not sure what to make of the fast speech that was said at him.

"You know, Sherlock, most people just ask someone what their last name is," said John with a small smile in Harry's direction to let him know that no, Sherlock was not crazy. Lestrade didn't know how well that smile was interpreted by Harry.

"Simpletons," said Sherlock, still looking at Harry for an answer.

Harry finally processed what was said to him and said, "No, it's Potter."

Lestrade wondered if he was related to any of the Potters that belonged to the world he hadn't belonged to since he was eleven but he couldn't think on it anymore because Sherlock was talking again.

"Harry Potter?" asked Sherlock. "What kind of name is that?"

Harry looked confused and John said, while Lestrade rolled his eyes, "We can't all have names like Sherlock Holmes, can we?"

"Hmm, fair point," said Sherlock nodding his head.

Lestrade looked at Harry and said, "Ignore him when he gets like that."

Harry nodded his head but Sherlock shook his head and said, "Now, Lestrade, he was left in my care. He should be listening to me."

"Not when you're insulting his name," said Lestrade.

"Technically all three of us are suppose to watch him," said John.

"Was I insulting his name?" asked Sherlock, ignoring what John said.

"Yes," said John, rolling his eyes at Sherlock's behavior, Lestrade and Harry, nodding his head.

Sherlock looked at them all for a moment before he gave a very indignant sniff, in Lestrade's opinion, moved to the side, leaned against the wall and got into his thinking pose.

"Did we hurt his feelings?" asked Harry, sounding concerned.

John gave Sherlock a long look before he said, "No, he's just gone into his mind palace to think. It's better if we leave him there. He can be a pain when he's bored."

"His mind what?" asked Harry, hesitantly, he wasn't suppose to ask questions, as Lestrade nodded his agreement to what John said.

John explained it to him and Harry looked at them wide eyed before he asked, again still hesitant, "When he deletes things, are they gone forever?"

John and Lestrade exchanged a look and even Sherlock, who had been listening to John explain and even elaborated certain points when John was being an idiot about it and not explaining properly especially since he had not gotten anywhere in his mind palace with his new bank robbery case, apparently he hadn't stored anything recent about bank robberies, looked at Harry curiously for a moment.

"Why?" John asked curiously.

Harry looked around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to him, specifically his uncle and aunt, and said in a whisper, "I have nightmares sometimes and I think it's the night my parents died. If I make my own mind palace thing and delete the nightmares, would they be gone forever?"

John and Lestrade look at Sherlock who was now looking at Harry very intently and said, "How long have you been living with your uncle and aunt?"

"Since I was little," said Harry.

"You're still little," pointed out Sherlock.

Harry shrugged his little shoulders and said, "I dunno. They said I was fifteen months old when I was left on their doorstep." Harry clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Left on their doorstep?" questioned Sherlock.

"People still do that?" asked John confused. He thought people stopped that after the sixties.

Lestrade let out an angry sigh. He hated to see things happen to children like this.

"Forget I said anything!" said Harry in a panic with another glance towards his uncle and aunt. They hated it when he brought up the night that ruined their lives.

"They can't do anything to you here," pointed out John.

"Your uncle and aunt gave you over to us to watch you and Lestrade is a Detective Inspector, no matter how inept, and can arrest people even though he is currently a hostage in a bank and I very much doubt that he is going to let them take you back even after all of this," said Sherlock.

Lestrade was very confused. He had never seen Sherlock try to comfort a child before though he was doing an okay job at it as far as he could tell anyway. Lestrade had to wonder the reasoning behind it especially since Harry interrupted his thinking time.

"That's right," said Lestrade when Sherlock gave him a pointed look when he didn't say anything after ten seconds.

Harry stared at them all, in the way only a child can, to see if they were telling the truth and the three of them stared back at him, before he finally nodded his ascent.

"Don't think you can change the subject on me. Why grown ups think they can do that, I'll never know," said Harry, though he mumbled the last part to himself and Lestrade had half a notion to grin to himself and he probably would have, if he wasn't in a vault in the middle of a hostage situation.

"What subject is that?" asked Sherlock and he was grinning. That was never a good thing.

"About deleting nightmares," said Harry.

He was getting more confident the longer he spoke to them was Lestrade's thought as he and John watched how Sherlock would handle this. He was the one who had the most knowledge on deleting memories and information so he had to answer this question.

Sherlock was watching Harry closely as Harry looked at him earnestly. He really didn't want to have the same nightmare anymore.

Instead of answering again, Sherlock asked, "Did you try talking to someone about your nightmares?"

Harry shook his head no and said, "They don't like it when I talk."

There was no question as to who the 'they' were.

Before Sherlock could respond, however, the bank manager, Mr. Hunt came over and asked Lestrade, "How long are they going to leave us alone here for?"

Lestrade opened his mouth to answer but before he could, Sherlock said, "Honestly, does no one think?"

Sherlock gets very irritated when people interrupt him except if you're a child apparently.

Mr. Hunt looked at Lestrade confused, who just shook his head knowing what was coming next from Sherlock, and said, "I'm sorry?"

"Let me ask you this, Mr. Hunt. Why would the bank robbers or hostage takers now, which ever term you prefer, I'm honestly on the fence, take everyone out of the vault when they know there is no way out of here unless they let us out and so no way for us to cause trouble for them and deliberately put us in a room where they actually have to watch us?"

Mr. Hunt and everyone else in the vault looked at Sherlock, as if he were a weird science experiment, who turned to John and said, "Really, what is it like in everyone's mind that they don't think of things like this?"

"Why would you assume I would know?" asked John.

"Because you aren't me," said Sherlock.

"Arrogant much?" asked Taylor Davis, the business man.

"Yes and it is well-deserved," said Sherlock.

Taylor Davis looked at Lestrade in confirmation, as if he were to know somehow.

Lestrade let out a sigh and said, in a reluctant voice, he hated making Sherlock's ego bigger as dangerous things tended to happen, "Yes, it is."

"When will the bank robbers come in here?" asked Mr. Jackson, one of the tellers.

"Bank robbers? Really they were bank robbers first but that became a moot point after they came back in and thus became hostage takers," said Sherlock as he thought over the man's choice in phrases to describe the men.

"Sherlock," said John exasperation, if he wasn't being rude, he was critiquing how they spoke.

Sherlock looked at John who gave him a pointed look. "The hostage takers will only come in here if they want to kill any of us. Otherwise, it will be the police who let us out."

Again, everyone looked at Lestrade for confirmation of what Sherlock said. Apparently since he was a Detective Inspector, he was the go-to guy for confirmation on the situation.

"He's right as far as I can remember from that department's protocols."

"That's not very reassuring," said Mr. Wall.

"It's not meant to be reassuring!" said Sherlock. "We're in the middle of a hostage situation. We are lucky we were left alone for this long. Really four hours is good from a hostage standpoint. Do you know how often these things end well for everyone, especially the hostages?"

"Really must you talk like that in front of the children?" asked Scott Knight, looking pointedly at the boy in Mrs. Dursley's arms and Harry behind him.

"Children don't like to be patronized and they liked to be told what's going on," said Sherlock simply. "They aren't idiots despite what adults think."

"They don't need to be scared though, do they?" asked Mr. Wall.

"They have every right to know the same things as adults," said Sherlock simply and he moved back over to the side of the vault that he claimed as his and after a moment of hesitation, Harry moved so that he was close by him but there was at least a couple feet in between them.

After that last proclamation everyone went back to what they were doing before though they were mumbling to themselves about Sherlock.

"I'm going to check on Ms. Moore," said John after a moment. "I should have done it as soon as we got in here but you know."

"Yeah," said Lestrade, wiping a hand wearily down his face before he went to a spot of the vault to get some space from everyone which just so happened to be next to the questionably dressed young man who's name escaped him right now and he sat in silence for the next hour though he heard the quite murmurings coming from Sherlock and Harry and Lestrade could only assume Sherlock was teaching Harry more about mind palaces and if it was possible to delete nightmares.

_'Hopefully this situation won't last much longer,'_ thought Lestrade and just as he thought that the vault suddenly opened and they all heard the leader say as he was right in the doorway of the vault, "That's going to cost you three hostages." He was obviously on the phone with one of Lestrade's colleagues.

They heard a muffled voice on the other end of the phone but then they were more worried about the three other accomplices who had just stepped into the vault with their weapons drawn and pointed at three random people but that didn't mean they were their targets. Lestrade dropped down to cover James Morgan, the name of the university student that was questionably dressed which just popped into his head, if he wasn't mistaken, who was closest to him. He saw John do the same for Ms. Moore who he was checking for a concussion and keeping an eye on her. He couldn't see Sherlock and Harry anymore due to the position he was now in. Then there was the sound of two gunshots, two thuds, panicked screams and when Lestrade looked up from his protective position of James Morgan, he saw –

* * *

"Oh my God, Sherlock. What the –" said Lestrade glaring at Sherlock as that was all he could do without choking anymore.

It was decided, thought Mycroft as he watched Lestrade choke slightly on the biscuit that was just shoved in his mouth. He was going to kill his brother and have his best people hide the body.

* * *

Future excerpt from John's Blog

Time – Unknown

_Yes, Sherlock can be that childish just to annoy his brother as anyone who has read any previous blog entries should know or just to put things off for as long as possible. I do wonder, though, what was going through Mycroft's mind at this point during this retelling. He had such a scowl on his face and I'm pretty sure I saw him poke another hole in his paper that he was taking notes on… _


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter. Also remember this is a story and anything that seems like it may be fact, I'm probably just making up. I am not a cop so I have no idea how things actually work in this type of situation, my only guide being the television...

Beta: Lady of the Shards

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always! You guys are awesome! I love it!

* * *

Chapter 6

**Mycroft's Office**

"Oh my God, Sherlock. What the –" said Lestrade glaring at Sherlock as that was all he could do without choking anymore.

It was decided, thought Mycroft as he watched Lestrade choke slightly on the biscuit that was just shoved in his mouth. He was going to kill his brother and have his best people hide the body.

"Sherlock," said John with a sigh as he passed Lestrade a cup of tea to help him as he chewed on the biscuit in his dry mouth as he still choked somewhat on it.

"John," said Sherlock simply as if he didn't know what John was trying to imply.

John rubbed his head. He forgot how Sherlock could be about his brother. He would never make that mistake again though, this incident finally beating the lesson in.

He wasn't the only one rubbing his head though. Mycroft was rubbing his head with one hand while clenching his pen rather tightly with the other and Greg was drinking another cup of tea to keep trying to clear his throat of crumbs. The only person who was unaffected was Harry, who was still sleeping on the couch, totally unaware of what was going on. John wished he could be sleeping right now.

Mycroft stopped rubbing his head, stood up and walked around from behind his desk, causing everyone but Lestrade, who was still choking on his biscuit slightly, to follow him with their eyes.

"Right, this is what we are going to do now," Mycroft said sounding and looking professional all of a sudden and John could finally _see_ how he could _be _the British Government and not just a concerned big brother. He certainly did carry himself differently, probably exactly like he did when he pulled rank, which always felt good but John rarely did it, pulling rank for amusement was a big no in John's book. Mycroft was probably feeling like a smug bastard right now and judging by Sherlock's look, he definitely knew what his brother was doing and how he was feeling for sure while John, himself, was only making guesses.

"Stand up, John," said Mycroft looking at him as he stood slightly behind Sherlock.

John suddenly felt like a deer that was caught in the headlights of an oncoming car that was going sixty miles an hour and had no way of stopping in time before it hit him. Why did he have to stand up? He was the only one here, along with Lestrade, who wasn't acting childish and Harry had the excuse of actually being a child to act like one. Mycroft and Sherlock had no such excuse.

"Some time this century would be nice, if you please, Doctor Watson," said Mycroft still looking at him intensely.

Mycroft is just as cranky as Sherlock when one doesn't respond to them right way thought John as he cautiously stood up as everyone awake watched him. It was rather unnerving.

Once he was standing up fully, Mycroft said, "Excellent. Now, sit in my seat behind my desk."

"I'm sorry, what?" questioned John, looking confused and he wasn't the only one. Lestrade was looking confused as well though Sherlock was looking slightly put out. If John moved, he wouldn't be able to interrupt him when he wanted to, probably just what Mycroft wanted, the smug idiot. No matter, Sherlock was clever. He would find a way around this slight obstacle of inconvenience. It will take more than a desk to stop him.

"It's simple, John," said Mycroft and John wished Mycroft would pick either his name or his title and stick to it when addressing him for consistency's sake if nothing else, "if you sit in my seat and I sit in yours," Mycroft looked like the idea itself was rather unappealing never mind the action itself, "then Sherlock will not be able to interrupt you like he did the poor Detective Inspector and you can finish telling me what happened in the bank."

"What makes you think I'll finish telling you what happened in the bank?" asked John as he cautiously and gingerly sat down in Mycroft's chair. It was one of the most comfortable chairs he has ever sat in in his entire life. He leaned back and his back cracked. Wonderful.

"No you can't take my chair with you," said Mycroft before the thought could enter John's mind with an amused look at John's face who didn't bother to look sheepish, the chair was amazing. "And in answer to your question, my brother," a look directed at Sherlock who just looked back at Mycroft, "won't continue and cannot be trusted to continue without taking excessive breaks to 'clear his throat of phlegm' and the poor Detective Inspector looks like he is going to be having quite the sore throat for a while, so that leaves you to finish the tale and in a place that is away from where my brother cannot interrupt you."

"Ye of little faith brother," said Sherlock before John could answer.

Mycroft just gave his brother a look, something he was doing a lot of today, and then he looked at John, not giving him a chance to respond, and said, "Whenever you are ready."

Mycroft then sat gingerly in the seat that John had vacated, as if it may actually bite him if he actually followed through with his ridiculous notion, in front of his own desk with his notepad and pen as John, now that he was comfortable in Mycroft's chair, looked at everyone who was looking at him expectantly, though John thought Sherlock looked thoughtful and devious, like he did when he was bored. John was going to keep a careful eye on him while he was telling the third part of the story. He didn't think a desk would stop Sherlock. He would probably just be more creative about how he went about interrupting.

"Okay," said John and he sat up in Mycroft's chair, maybe he would get Sherlock to help him_ borrow,_ without the intent of returning, the chair, "Well, there was the sound of…"

* * *

**Nineteen hours,**** fifty minutes before in the bank...**

There was the sound of two gunshots, two thuds, panicked screams and when John looked up from his protective position of Ms. Moore to take stock of the situation, what he saw shocked him.

There was a bullet frozen just inches in front of him and when he looked around the vault he saw that there was another bullet frozen just inches in front of Lestrade and that Sherlock was wiping something from his suit jacket that looked suspiciously like water. It also looked like Harry was muttering something but John wasn't close enough to hear what exactly and Sherlock's body was blocking Harry from further examination from anyone. Did that mean Sherlock stepped in front of Harry?

On John's further exam of the vault, the two thuds were made when Mrs. Dursley had passed out behind her husband and brought down her son with her, who started the panicked screaming with several others joining in.

John looked over at the hostage-takers and would-be murderers and saw that the leader had hung up the phone after the gunshots and was looking at the bullets that were still hanging midair. Even though his face was covered, there was no doubt that his head tilt meant that he was confused as to what had just happened. John could only hold his breath and hope he didn't try again. For some reason, he didn't think he would be lucky a second time.

John watched as the leader turned to one of his colleagues and said, "You brought a water pistol with you?"

"No," said the man, and John realized this was the one that was watching them earlier, "I fired earlier. You heard me and where would I stick an extra gun?"

The leader didn't acknowledge anything that the man had just said. He just took the gun from the man and examined it, ejected the magazine and pulled back the slide. It was real as the remaining bullets were proof enough. So why had it fired water? And what made the bullets freeze? Maybe his employer would know? But first…

The leader walked up to the bullet that was in front of John, plucked it from midair, looked at it, dropped it on the ground where it fell with a thud, looked at John and said, "Did you do that?"

John shook his head, in too much shock to do much else. He had never seen anything like this, not even in Afghanistan.

The leader looked at him before moving over to Lestrade without another word and plucking the bullet from midair, looking at it before dropping it as well.

The leader looked up at Lestrade and said, "Did you do that?"

John watched as a curious look crossed over Lestrade's face but it was gone the next second, and John had to wonder now if he was hallucinating, before Lestrade said, "No." He shook his head as well.

The leader, again, didn't say anything, just left the vault with his comrades, shutting the vault door behind them.

There was a moment of silence in which no one said anything but Lestrade shot Harry a strange look. John couldn't decipher it so after a moment he asked Ms. Moore if she was hurt and she said no. John looked around quickly at everyone to ascertain if anyone had been hurt. It didn't appear so. They were all just in slight shock for the moment except for Mrs. Dursley, who was still out cold, but John didn't think Mr. Dursley would let him touch her, even if to exam her to make sure she was all right.

Then after a minute more of silence, Mrs. Dursley woke up and asked her husband what happened.

"It was the Freak!" said Mr. Dursley pointing at Harry who was still hidden slightly behind Sherlock. "It's all his fault!"

Harry moved a little further behind Sherlock at that pronouncement as if he knew what was to come after that pronouncement.

"What did you do you now, boy?" asked Mrs. Dursley, sounding angry.

Harry moved even further behind Sherlock though closer to the wall away from everyone even Sherlock though Sherlock moved his body, probably again, to block Harry from everyone's view.

John moved closer to Sherlock now as did Lestrade.

"Now hold on," said John.

"You don't know what he's like normally. He does this all the time," said Mr. Dursley and he started to advanced towards the three of them in front of Harry.

"He had nothing to do with it," said Lestrade but John and Sherlock could tell there was something in Lestrade's voice that said maybe he didn't believe that one hundred percent but he wasn't worried about it quite as much as Mr. and Mrs. Dursley appeared to be. If anything, he sounded grateful.

"He did!" said Mrs. Dursley and she held tight to her son who looked terrified.

"What makes you think he had something to do with it?" asked Sherlock, standing in front of Harry with an arm behind him on Harry's shoulder to stop him from moving further away from him and in Sherlock's own method of comfort, John realized.

But Mr. Dursley wasn't listening to any of them nor any of the protests coming from any of the other people in the bank with him and he continued to advance towards where all three of them stood in front of Harry.

Sherlock stood in front of them all and said, "If you think I'm going to let you touch the boy in my presence, you are sadly mistaken. He did not have anything to do with what just happened, of that I am sure. Now go back to your wife. You gave up your rights to speak to Harry when you gave him to us to look after."

Lestrade was nodding his agreement to what Sherlock had said and John figured he might as well as stand there and look intimating as Captain Watson, not Doctor Watson, to get him to back off even if John didn't think Sherlock sounded all that sure about Harry not having anything to do with what just happened.

Mr. Dursley, finally, ended up giving the three of them a scathing look before he went back over to his wife muttering about freaks in cloaks coming to investigate, whatever that meant, though Lestrade just snorted.

After Mr. Dursley went back over to his wife and everyone slowly went back to their own thoughts and business, Sherlock, Lestrade and John all turned towards Harry who looked at them nervously, gulping rather noticeably and tugging on his shirt with one hand.

Before any of them could say anything though, Harry said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it! I just didn't want the first people who were nice to me to die!"

Choosing to ignore the second part of the unnecessary apology until he can properly think it through, preferably with some shooting involved and, glancing at Lestrade's and Sherlock's faces, he knew he would have some company when he did so, John was confused. Harry thought he stopped the two bullets and turned the other into water before it ever left the chamber of the gun though when he glanced over to Lestrade again he was mouthing to himself something about strong accidental something, John couldn't make out the last word. John looked over at Sherlock and realized that he was still looking at Harry.

"What makes you think that what happened to the bullets was your fault?" asked Sherlock to Harry.

Harry shrugged his little shoulder, Sherlock's hand still on it, and said, "I'm a freak. It's always my fault."

He sounded miserable at that and John could only imagine how many times he was told that, and that made him angry.

Before John or Lestrade could correct what Harry had said, Sherlock said, rather forcefully, "No. Harry you are _not_ a freak if, and I'm stressing the if as we do not know for certain you did anything, you can do something that someone else cannot."

John and Lestrade exchanged a look. Perhaps everyone calling him a freak does affect him more than he lets on. They had always suspected, especially Lestrade since Sherlock's deductions about Lestrade's team was always viscous once they all hear that hateful word used in regard to Sherlock and John and Lestrade both could only do so much to make them back off.

Harry looked at Sherlock for a long time before he looked at John and Lestrade, who both nodded at him at what Sherlock had said, before he nodded his head at what Sherlock had said to him.

"Okay," he said, though John couldn't tell if Harry actually believed what Sherlock had told him or not, but if John knew Sherlock, he would make Harry believe it, just like he made John truly realize his limp was psychosomatic.

* * *

**Mycroft's Office**

"Sherlock, stop throwing biscuits at me," John said calmly as he was hit in the face again and there was a snapping noise heard throughout the room.

Everyone turned to look, slightly incredulously - Lestrade and John, as they thought he had more patience - or gleefully - Sherlock - at Mycroft who calmly threw away the two pieces of his pen and turned to John, wiping his hand of ink on a wet napkin he had pulled from his suit jacket, and said, "Could you please hand me another pen from the top left hand drawer, Doctor Watson?"

John tried it and said, "It's locked."

"My apologies. Try the third drawer from the bottom on the right hand side," said Mycroft, throwing away the wet napkin now that his hand was cleaned.

John tired it, it opened but since Mycroft was watching him rather closely, he just took out a pen and passed it to Mycroft before shutting the desk drawer.

"Thank you, John," said Mycroft.

John nodded his head.

"Please continue on with the tale," said Mycroft and he moved the plate of biscuits out of reach from his brother, something he should have done after he shoved one down Detective Inspector Lestrade's throat.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at that move and said, "Dull." Though he leaned back in his chair to ponder his next move to get John to stop telling the story before it reached it's conclusion.

* * *

**Nineteen hours before in the bank...**

"Yes, sir," said the leader of the bank robbery to his boss into the Bluetooth that was in his ear. "The bullets froze midair and one was turned into water before it even left the gun."

"You don't say," said the other voice, sounding somewhat gleeful.

The leader of the bank robbery knew it was a rhetorical question so he didn't say anything, just waited for his boss to continue.

"Tell me, Freddie, did you see any sticks when you had your men fire their guns?" asked his boss.

"No," said Freddie, confused. What did sticks have to do with anything?

"Hmm… There are children there right? Two of them if I can recall correctly from when you did attendance," said his boss, sounding thoughtful.

"Yes, sir," said Freddie.

"What was the surname?" asked his boss.

Freddie thought for a moment before he said, "I think it was Dursley, sir."

"Of both children?" asked his boss.

Freddie hesitated. It sounded like his boss already knew the answer. "I'm not sure, sir."

"Hmm… Tell me, who were your men aiming at when they fired their guns?" asked his boss, and he didn't sound gleeful anymore. He sounded like he was collecting data to conduct business.

"The copper and the two flat mates," said Freddie.

There was silence on the other end for the moment and it was a tense silence. Freddie felt like he could cut it with a knife.

"Let me get this straight," said his boss and he said this softly, dangerously. "Your men fired bullets at Detective Inspector Lestrade, Doctor John Watson and SHERLOCK HOLMES!" He shouted the last name in anger.

"Yes –" said Freddie and that is as far as he got before he was cut off.

"What was my parting statement to you, Freddie dear," said his boss. He sounded sweet now. Freddie thought that was a danger sign.

Freddie thought for a moment before he said, "Not to harm Sherlock Holmes or Doctor Watson."

"Or the Detective Inspector!" yelled his boss. "I need all three of them alive! And here your men are shooting at them!" His boss continued to yell threats about how he was lucky they weren't actually hurt or all of them would be shoes or worse and the threats went on. Then there was a pause in his yelling.

"But they may not have done it purposely, sir," said Freddie.

"You just said that is who they were aiming at," said his boss dangerously.

"Yes, but the three of them were each protecting someone," said Freddie quickly before his boss could cut him off.

"Protecting someone?" echoed his boss back to him after a moment of very, very tense silence. "Even Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes," said Freddie, sounding slightly relieved. "He was protecting one of the children."

"Oh, so you and your men are children killers then?" asked his boss.

Freddie didn't know what to say, especially since he knew what his boss actually does and he is far from innocent when it comes to these sorts of things.

"Describe the child to me," said his boss after a moment, apparently having given up for the moment of getting an answer.

Freddie describe the young boy as best as he could. It was hard since he overlooked the boy as unimportant.

"Tell me. Was there also a lightening bolt scar on his forehead?" asked his boss and he sounded positively gleeful, as if all his dreams had come true at once.

Five minutes later, Freddie was relieved to finally be off the phone with his boss, even though he left him floundering at first. The man was scary as were his mood swings. He hoped he didn't make any major mistakes. He glanced up at the windows in the bank. He heard things about his boss's sniper, even if there was little visibility through them because of the blinds, he could apparently make the shot. Freddie was glad the windows were very high up though he wondered if that made much difference to the sniper. Angrily he thought whoever heard of needing sunlight in a bank when you weren't in it that long? Though he could have thought for sure the blinds were closed earlier…

**In the vault...**

"What do you think they are doing out there now?" asked Mr. Knight from his spot against the vault wall.

Sherlock let out a sigh but before he or anyone else could say anything, Harry, surprisingly, let out a giggle and said, "No one thinks, right?"

Sherlock, who was sitting right next to him, said, "Correct Harry. No one thinks."

"Okay, genius," and it wasn't said with praise from Mr. Davis, "what are they doing?"

Sherlock, ignoring how Mr. Davis said 'genius,' said, after letting out a sigh, "Isn't it obvious?"

"No," said everyone, excluding, John, Harry and Lestrade, in a varying degree of tones, some annoyed, some neutral, some like they were going to murder Sherlock (i.e. – the Dursleys).

"Yes," said Harry, nodding his head at Sherlock who sent a brief smile in his direction.

"Frea-" started Mr. Dursley but Sherlock cut him off.

"I do not want to hear that word uttered again, Mr. Dursley," said Sherlock with scowl directed at him. "Harry has done nothing wrong. He only used his brain which is more than what can be said for everyone else here."

As Mr. Dursley responded back, John and Lestrade couldn't help but stare at Sherlock after they let out a sigh at being insulted. They couldn't remember when Sherlock grew attached, for lack of a better phrase, that quickly to someone. In fact, Lestrade remembers the last person that happening to being John himself. John and Lestrade wonder if Sherlock knows he is becoming attached and starting to care.

They both mentally shook their head and turned back to the conversation, even though it was obvious now that they both missed some points in the conversation as Mr. Dursley was now extremely red in the face, Sherlock looked slightly fascinated as if he wanted to see just how red he could make Mr. Dursley and Harry was sitting rather close to Sherlock.

John, knowing he is one of the few who can derail Sherlock when he is starting an experiment, said to Sherlock, "Sherlock, just explain _how_ it is obvious what the hostage-takers are doing now." John couldn't help the slight exasperation that slipped onto his face. The concrete in the floor wasn't good for his aches, psychosomatic or not. He was going to be stiff when this was all over and they were only a few hours into.

Sherlock looked over at John, eyes assessing his well-being, though he would never admit it out loud to anyone, let alone John, as he knew how John's wounds acted up on concrete floors, before he decided not to argue and said, "He went to call his boss to find out if he saw anything like this before and to see if his boss can help and to make sure that if they fire their guns again, they'll work."

"How can you possibly know that?" asked Ms. Moore. She sounded curious.

"It is the only reason why someone like him, someone who is already proven to be quick to shoot and to show his power, would leave all the hostages alive after saying to the person on the other end of the phone that he was going to kill three of us," responded Sherlock.

Everyone pondered that for a moment before Lestrade asked, "Do you think they will be back to kill the three?"

John thought he needed to know so that he could try to protect them, no matter how fruitless it may seem to be.

Sherlock was silent for a moment as everyone watched him, waiting for his answer as his hand rubbed at his stomach, his eyes slid silently towards Harry, before he said, "No." He looked back at John then Lestrade and said, again, "No, I don't think so."

Regardless of the fact that Sherlock just repeated himself, something that he hated, the tone of Sherlock's voice alerted John that he may not be telling the complete truth. Maybe he did listen Mr. Knight when he said not to be so unreassuring in front of children. Though John was curious about why Sherlock kept rubbing his stomach. Was he getting sick?

Everyone was silent as they pondered what Sherlock had said, some reading between the lines of what he said, others believing what he said, the idiots.

Before they knew it another hour had passed and still no one had said a word after Sherlock had finished speaking, not even Sherlock and they were all sitting around in the vault.

Suddenly the other child, and John wasn't sure if his name was said or if he just didn't hear it spoken, said, "I'm hungry and I'm missing my favorite television show!" That sounded like a whine actually.

John leaned his head against the wall, he was sitting between Sherlock and Lestrade, and he hoped the child didn't do that long.

"Mummy? Did you hear me? I'm hungry and I'm missing my favorite television show! I want to watch it! Make them let me watch it and feed me!"

John lifted his head up and looked at Lestrade who looked at John incredulous before he stared incredulously at the child. The child couldn't honestly expect to eat something and watch telly in the middle of a hostage situation, could he?

"Darling, be quiet now," said Mrs. Dursley while Mr. Dursley didn't bother to acknowledge anything his son said.

John looked at Sherlock who didn't bother to look at him as he was engrossed thinking, going by his hand movements, he was probably back in his mind palace. John looked over at Harry who just looked like he couldn't believe his cousin.

"No Mummy! It's four in the afternoon and my favorite show is on and it's time for my snack before supper!" said the child.

Now John was confused. Don't most people eat supper at around five o'clock? He was pretty sure it was the recommended time to eat if you were going to be on a schedule and not live with a hectic schedule like his.

"Shh, Dudley. You'll get your snack when we get home. I'm sorry but you can't watch your show right now," said Mrs. Dursley, trying to soothe her child while Mr. Dursley glared at everyone who was staring at his family incredulously. They had no right to judge his family. The nerve of them.

John saw great, big crocodile tears start to fall down the child's, Dudley's, face at that. If John had to guess going by everything that Harry wasn't saying and the way he was acting, Dudley was never denied anything in his life. This must be a crushing blow to the little boy and everyone was going to have to suffer his crying.

"Oh do make your boy be quiet," said Sherlock after a few minutes, coming out of his mind palace, rather abruptly.

"Why I never –" said Mrs. Dursley while Mr. Dursley went red in the face again. John decided that must be his default setting when angry.

"He is going to attract the attention of the hostage-takers. If you want them to come in here then by all means, let him continue to cry and draw their attention right to him," said Sherlock.

What Sherlock said didn't seem to help stop Dudley crying at all though it was the first thing that Sherlock said that Mr. and Mrs. Dursley listened to without complaint.

"Dudley Vernon Dursley, you stop right now. Do you want to make those men come back in?" asked Mrs. Dursley, slightly shrilly and she gripped her son tight and held him to her close.

There was a moment where it didn't seem like he was going to stop, but finally Dudley stopped crying, although John and probably everyone else in the vault could tell it was fake, except his own parents.

There was a moment of silence before there was the sound of chuckling coming from the student, James Morgan.

"What's so funny?" asked Mr. Dursley, slightly stand-offish.

"Mate, you named you kid after DVDs. His initials are DVD," said James Morgan and he continued to laugh.

Now John could see the humor in that. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley seemed like straight-laced people and they probably didn't even realize what they did, which made it even funnier. He grinned but he was old enough not to laugh.

Until he looked at Sherlock and saw he was fighting a grin. They caught each other's eye and they both burst out laughing which caused a domino effect in almost everyone in the vault excluding very obviously Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, who scowled as that was a good, strong name, and Dudley who looked shocked at the laughter, not quite understanding. Even Harry let out a few chuckles though he was laughing because everyone except the Dursleys were.

James Morgan looked at Mr. Dursley and saw his red face and said, still chuckling slightly, "Don't be like that, mate. I think it's cool."

Everyone let their chuckles slowly taper off after that comment but it felt nice to have a semi-lighthearted moment in the very tense situation especially since they weren't making fun of anyone, just the circumstances since picking on children was wrong, especially by adults. John was a firm believer of that. If anything, they were making fun of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley for picking the name to begin with, not Dudley.

As soon as the last person finished laughing it was as though it was a cue for the hostage-takers to come back into the vault causing the lighthearted moment to vanish just as soon as it arrived.

The leader looked at everyone while his men stood slightly spread out in the vault with their guns pointed in no particular direction. Everyone tensed though Sherlock just watched them appearing as relaxed and unfazed as before they walked in.

After a moment of tense silence, in which the leader was glad that he could make some people as tense as his boss makes him, the leader said, "What is all the commotion going on in here?"

No one wanted to answer him. John looked at Sherlock again and was surprised, though not if he thought about it, to see a small smirk starting on his face as he watched the leader.

"Someone had better answer me," said the leader after another minute.

Mr. Hunt, decided to answer, "It was nothing. The children are hungry."

John could understand why he grouped the kids together. Harry looks like he could definitely stand to eat more food than what he is getting.

"That explains the wailing I heard. What about the laughter?" said the leader.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, John closed his in anticipation, and said, "Obviously, someone said something funny."

The leader's hand clenched but that was all he did before he took out the phone and spoke into it.

"Yeah, I'm going to need some food while I'm waiting for my way outta here. It better be safe. We're not gonna be the only ones eating it," said the leader to the hostage negotiator.

That was the last everyone in the vault heard before the vault door was shut and they were left alone.

"What had you so pleased when the hostage-takers walked in?" asked Lestrade almost as soon as the hostage-takers left them alone again but quietly so no one overheard. People tended to panic when Sherlock answered anything.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Sherlock, quiet as well.

John just looked at him, Harry shook his head and Lestrade said, "No."

Sherlock let out a long suffering sigh as if he did not know why he kept himself surrounded by idiots though he patted Harry's arm as if to let him know it was okay, that he would learn and not all hope was lost for him, before he said, "Obviously his phone call did not go well with his boss."

"How do you know that?" asked John, curiously while Lestrade raised an eyebrow and Harry looked like he was very interested in what he was saying.

"When they came in, the leader, he shot the three of us a look as if he were blaming us for something. The leader practically said if there was any commotion regardless of who was the cause he would shoot either you, John, or you, Lestrade. Either his boss does not want any of us hurt, specifically, or he does not want any killings at all. Plus did you notice they did not point their guns at anyone when they came in? That was the first time they did not," said Sherlock very quickly.

John and Lestrade thought about what Sherlock said in silence for a moment while Harry looked at Sherlock in awe.

After a moment, John said, "You know who the leader's boss is, don't you?"

"An inkling. Nothing more," responded Sherlock.

"Who?" asked Lestrade.

Sherlock didn't bother to respond and Lestrade let out a sigh.

Everyone fell silent after that and John saw that Harry wanted to ask how Sherlock did what he did but wasn't going to. John looked at Sherlock as well and could tell at once why Harry wasn't asking. Sherlock's eyes were closed and he was in what John dubbed his 'thinking' pose.

John felt like he needed to explain to Harry. He didn't want the boy to stop asking questions or be afraid to ask questions.

"You can ask him when he finished, Harry. I'm sure he won't mind explaining it to you," said John with a small smile.

Harry looked at John and gave him a smile and Sherlock let out a noise that was in agreement as he was apparently listening to everything still going on around him even if he was thinking inward. Of course, he would know what they were talking about and Harry's grin grew bigger. Harry obviously had grown an attachment to Sherlock in a very short amount of time as well. John thought it was remarkable.

They all lapsed into a comfortable silence after that and before they knew it another hour had passed and John couldn't help but wonder if hostage situations were always so boring and then he wondered if Sherlock was rubbing off on him. That thought sounded awfully like him.

But then they spent most of their time so far in the vault and not being threatened, which was good except for that minor hiccup with the bullets being shot at them, but John lived for the rush of the adrenaline. He loved it in these situations even though he would never admit it and he couldn't help but find himself bored with the proceedings slightly. After all, this was his first honest to goodness bank hold up and he felt like he was missing all the action by being shoved in a vault. He mentally shook his head at that thought. He really was channeling Sherlock.

At that thought, the vault opened again and the hostage-takers walked back in. Everyone turned to look at them.

The leader was looking at each of them as if he was assessing them all for something. Finally, he obviously found what he was looking for because he started to head in the direction of where Sherlock, John, Harry and Lestrade were sitting and right up to Harry, picking him right up. That action in turned caused Sherlock, John and Lestrade to stand up and the rest of the hostage-takers to point their guns at the three of them.

The leader didn't spare them a glance. He just continued to stare at Harry, who was extremely tense in the man's arms. After a moment, the leader balanced Harry with one hand and using the other moved Harry's bangs off his forehead as if he were looking for something hidden beneath them.

The leader stared at Harry's forehead for a moment and John saw Sherlock's eye narrow out of the corner of his eye. There was obviously something on Harry's forehead that had significance that none of them noticed and John saw Sherlock mouth, "there's always something." So obviously Sherlock didn't see what was on his forehead either. Harry's bangs must have been hiding them which was surprising considering how messy his hair is.

The leader then looked at the three of them and said, "Oh stop with the looks. I'm not hurting the brat. Which leads me to question, why is he even over here to begin with when he came with that family?" The leader pointed over to the Dursley family.

There was silence at that question and no one seemed to want to answer it.

After a moment of silence, the leader said, "You know what, it doesn't matter anyways as long as someone is keeping him out of trouble."

John noticed the leader's eyes go to Sherlock at that statement.

"I need volunteers to go get the food and I'm going to pick them now," said the leader, still holding onto Harry, who's forehead was now visible and everyone could see a lighting bolt scar, though the leader had set Harry down onto the floor, holding on to him with his left hand with his gun in his right. He looked at everyone standing in the vault.

"Are you going to let the boy go?" asked Sherlock and John could tell he was resisting putting his hand on his stomach. John wasn't sure what he was more concerned with now at the moment, the fact that someone had a gun close to little Harry's head or the fact that Sherlock was choosing a very inconvenient time to fall ill. He should just go with both and save himself the trouble.

Surprisingly the leader answered him and said, "No. I need to make sure whoever I take listens. Everyone listens when a child is suddenly in danger."

He continued to scan the room until he pointed at Ms. Moore and said, "You." One of his fellow hostage-takers grabbed her arm. The leader then pointed at John and said, "And you." Another of the hostage-takers grabbed John's arm and brought him over by the vault door to stand by Ms. Moore.

"We'll be back in with the food," said the leader and he walked out the vault with Harry walking quickly to keep up with him though John could see Harry glancing over his shoulder to look at where Sherlock and Lestrade where standing and John, himself, looked at them before he was pulled out of the vault and it was closed shut.

John really wanted to double check the look on Sherlock's face though. John could have thought Sherlock looked concerned and Lestrade had a hand on his shoulder as if he were holding Sherlock back.

The man holding his arm, unless it was a very unfortunate woman and damn was Sherlock rubbing off him, led him away from the vault and stood him in front of the teller counter beside Ms. Moore, Harry, his scar still visible, still in the leader's arm. John had to wonder what this had to do with them getting the food.

"Before we get the food, I've negotiated a trade for it. One hostage for the food and drinks. Out of the hostages that I have out of the vault, which one should I trade for the food? Answer one at a time now starting with you, Army Doctor," said the leader looking at him.

John, almost without thinking about it, said, "Harry." He nodded at the boy in his arm.

The leader didn't say anything, just turned to Ms. Moore, who said, "Harry," also nodding at the boy in his arm.

The leader looked at them, before looking at the boy in his arm, before nodding and saying, "That's settles it then. Ms. Moore, after you get the food from the coppers that bring it in, I've watched enough telly to know it won't actually be the delivery guys, you are free to leave with them."

"Now wait a moment," started John and Ms. Moore, together.

"No," said the leader. "I took your opinions into consideration before I made my decision and I've decided Ms. Moore will leave. Children are better hostages, anyway. No one wants to hurt them."

John and Ms. Moore were silent before there was a sudden knocking sound on the door.

"Let's move," said the leader and he pulled Harry towards the door as two others pulled John and Ms. Moore towards the door and the last one covered them.

"Army Doctor," said the leader and John looked over at him when they stopped by the door. "Open the door and let them in."

The man who was pulling him, led John to the door and with his gun in his back, John opened the door to let in the two delivery people who happened to be Sergeant Donovan, and John had to wonder when she got back from the crime scene she was at, and another that John had seen at crime scenes but didn't know on any name basis.

Once they were in the bank fully, John was told to shut the door which he did and he was pulled back further with everyone else.

The leader with his gun pointed at Harry then looked at Sergeant Donovan, who appeared to be in charge of the two who stepped in the bank, and said, "Take the food over to the teller counter and set it down."

Sergeant Donovan nodded once along with her associate without looking at John, the least he needed was for these men to think he had police connections, and they walked over to the teller counter and set down the pizza boxes that they were carrying and what looked like a couple of bags full of cans of fizzy drinks.

Once they were done with that, Sergeant Donovan and her associate turned to look at the leader who was watching them carefully and said, "You can take Ms. Moore with you on your way out."

Sergeant Donovan frowned slightly and said, "Why don't you let the child go?"

The leader brought up his gun to point in the direction of Sergeant Donovan and said, "Because I've decided to let Ms. Moore go. Now you two better leave and take Ms. Moore before we can add two more hostages to the rest of them."

"Army Doctor," John tensed at that, "You can let them out and remember you three, he will have a gun to his back and I will have a gun to the child. Ms. Moore, you are free to go."

"Wait," said Sergeant Donovan, and the leader sighed but it didn't seem as if Sergeant Donovan was going to give in and leave. She just crossed her arms and waited for the leader to acknowledge her.

"What?" said the leader, sounding annoyed.

"Does anyone need medical attention? There were the gunshots after all and I was told to ask," said Sergeant Donovan.

"No," said the leader. "Now leave." He nodded to his accomplice who gave Ms. Moore a slight shove in the direction of Sergeant Donovan and her associate and they all started to head towards the door out of the bank. Once they were all out the door, John shut it and locked it when directed.

He was then pulled back towards the others, back by the teller counter, where the food was.

The leader then addressed both John and Harry, who the leader finally let go and was now standing next to John, and said, "I want you both to take all but two boxes of pizzas and two twelve packs of fizzy drinks into the vault with you. You, Army Doctor, can take the pizzas, and you, kid, can take the fizzy drinks."

John looked at Harry, then all the fizzy drinks and said, "There is no way he's going to be able to carry all those by himself. He's five." John was being generous. He did not know how old Harry was for sure as Harry didn't say and Sherlock didn't deduce out loud for everyone.

The leader looked at the both of them for a moment before he said, "Then you can carry what he can't along with the pizza."

"Fine," said John simply.

"I wasn't asking," said the leader, "I was telling or else what the boy takes in is all everyone gets to drinks. How pleased do you think everyone would be then if they only had to split just one of the bags that have the cans of fizzy drinks?"

John didn't answer and it didn't sound like the leader wanted one anyways.

"Let's go," said the leader.

John waited until the leader had one of his men take out their stuff first before he gave Harry the lighter bag of fizzy drinks which Harry took with a slight amount of difficulty. John then put his arm in the hole of the bag of the second bag and then picked up the boxes with a slight amount of difficulty with balancing everything.

"Move," said the leader gesturing for John and Harry to start walking back to the vault which they did though carefully in John's case so he didn't drop anything.

The leader opened the vault, let them walk in and shut it without going in with them, leaving it to John to explain.

When John looked up, he saw that Sherlock was in the same position as he was when they left and now that he knew that it was only the two of them, he was making his way over to them, shaking Lestrade's hand off his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asked them both.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said John as he debated about where to put the pizza boxes, anywhere on the floor or in the middle of the floor specifically.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Sherlock asked Harry after he didn't get an answer and he must have been worried because he asked again.

John looked at Harry and saw that Harry nodded his head.

"That's good," said Sherlock nodding his head. "Good," he repeated himself and John knew he only did that when he was worked up about something.

"Where's Ms. Moore?" asked Mr. Hunt, worried about his employee.

John decided to set the pizza and the drinks in the middle of the vault as it was easier for everyone to get to, before he answered, "They decided to let her go." He set them down before taking the drinks carefully from Harry. He decided not to say anything about how tightly Harry was holding the bag which went to show how scared he had been. John thought he was holding up very well for the situation he was in. Very well indeed.

"What? Why not someone else? Why her?" asked Mrs. Dursley as Mr. Hunt nodded relieved.

John ignored her and continued explaining, "We tried to get the leader to release Harry but he said no."

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley snorted and John could have swore he heard something being said but he wasn't sure what though judging by Sherlock's expression it probably wasn't anything good or polite.

Sherlock looked at John and said, "Sergeant Donovan and someone you didn't know delivered the food."

Lestrade looked at John at that.

"How did you know?" asked John, nodding his head.

"You have the same expression on your face that you usually do when you have to deal with her when she is being stubborn," said Sherlock.

"She's suppose to be working on another case," said Lestrade, somewhat needlessly.

"When they realized you were a hostage as well they probably called her in. They probably aren't happy to have confirmation that John was in the bank because that means I'm in the bank as well," said Sherlock.

"Why?" asked Harry, sounding innocently curious.

Sherlock opened his mouth to give a scathing remark as usual but John cut him off by saying, "They're just jealous that Sherlock is smarter than them mostly. Right Lestrade?"

"Right," said Lestrade, nodding his head, and it was mostly true, though another part of it, okay a big part of it was Sherlock's attitude towards them but Harry didn't need to know it right now.

Harry looked at them all suspiciously for a moment but then he nodded his head at what he was told.

"Let's get some pizza and something to drink," said John. "Too bad we couldn't get any tea. I could use a cuppa."

"We're in the middle of a hostage situation," said Lestrade as he took a piece of pizza and a can of fizzy drink, "And you act like you could drink a cup of tea like you're at home."

"We've been stuck in a vault for most of the time. It's mostly boring with a few hiccups," said John with a shrug as he took some pizza and a can of fizzy drink after some of the other hostages.

"You've been around Sherlock too long," said Lestrade shaking his head fondly at them.

Sherlock let out an indignant huff at that, John invaded Afghanistan after all, but he helped Harry, seemingly without thinking about it, taking out two pieces of pizza to put on his plate, apparently he thought Harry needed to eat, and then he held Harry's drink for him along with one for himself.

John looked at Sherlock very pointedly though and Sherlock rearranged the drinks so he could pick up a plate with a piece of pizza on it so he could eat as well.

The four of them then moved over to the corner that they claimed as their own and sat down and ate.

As everyone sat down and ate, Mr. Davis said, "Do you think we should try to do something? To fight them so we can leave? There are more of us."

Sherlock snorted and said, "Idiot."

Mr. Davis let out a what he thought was a sneer but was actually a grimace and said, "And why not?"

"For one, they showed good faith, if you were, by releasing one hostage already," said Lestrade, though John didn't really see what that had to do with anything but he had a point, "Plus the cops really do not like it when civilians try to make themselves heroes in these types of situations. You always end up getting hurt."

"Then why don't you do it?" asked Mr. Dursley, somewhat nastily to Lestrade and John had to wonder if the man was always unpleasant or only to those who showed his nephew kindness.

"For another, as it was already pointed out to you, the vault only opens from the outside. You can't open it from the inside, though I'm sure after all this over, Mycroft will fix that for this bank and probably all others. Which reminds me, John. You should tell Mr. Hunt that you will no longer be a customer here after we get out of here," said Sherlock.

Mr. Hunt spluttered while John just nodded his head resignedly. He knew that there was no way he could argue with Sherlock on this as Sherlock could make his life hell at the flat. He shuddered to think about the random spare parts he could possibly find if he didn't agree.

Mr. Hunt, angrily, said, "You can't decided that for him!"

Lestrade snorted and John couldn't help but chuckle along with him. The poor, naive man. Sherlock stared at him like he was Anderson and he said something extremely stupid.

"Anyways," said Mr. Davis, "Is there any other reasons why we shouldn't just rush them when they open the vault the next time?"

"How about the fact that they have guns?" said John mildly.

"Or the fact that there are children?" said Lestrade.

"It's a stupid plan," said Sherlock. "Mycroft will sort this out within the next," Sherlock checked his watch, "fifteen hours, if not sooner. He just has to make some phone calls and mobilize whoever. Your colleagues are somewhat inept for this, Detective Inspector."

Lestrade just sighed but he didn't argue, knowing what the older Holmes could do.

"Who is this Mycroft? And what can he do?" asked Mr. Jackson.

Sherlock just grimaced slightly but didn't say anything.

John, knowing that their relationship should probably stay secret and what Mycroft's job is as well, said, "Someone who can help and who," he pretended to search for a word for a moment, "worries constantly about his arch enemy."

"Very funny, John," said Sherlock, drily, while Lestrade grinned and Harry watched them closely as he ate his pizza, but still keeping an eye on his relatives in case they told him not to eat.

Everyone in the bank looked confused at the inside joke they were sharing.

"So your answer, Mr. Davis and everyone else, is no. We shouldn't do anything. That would just be stupid. We should just hope that Scotland Yard can stall them long enough and not make any mistakes until, for lack of a better phrase of words, Special Forces can get here," said Sherlock.

Mr. Davis just grunted and finished up his pizza in silence as did everyone else.

When he was finished, John looked at Sherlock and said, "You have another reason too don't you? You don't like relying on Mycroft for anything more than you have to."

Sherlock looked at John and said, "You must be getting better at observing."

John snorted and said, "No, just knowing you a little bit better. So what is it?"

Making sure that Lestrade and Harry were engaged in a conversation so they could not overhear the conversation as Lestrade didn't know about Sherlock's fan yet, Sherlock said, "I've already concluded that the person acting like the leader here isn't the actual leader. Maybe if it drags out long enough, the actual leader will show themselves."

"You want to know if it's your fan? The one that goes by Moriarty?" asked John. Sherlock had explained the bare minimum to him over Chinese that night.

Sherlock nodded once and John sighed.

"What?" asked Sherlock.

"Isn't there another way you could go about finding out who he is?"

Sherlock scoffed and said, "Think, John. This Moriarty person or group of people were smart enough to contract a cabbie to kill for them to get my attention for themselves. It is going to be difficult to contact them on my own."

John looked mildly alarmed and said, "You want to contact them?"

Sherlock just looked at him but before he could answer, Lestrade said, "What're you two talking about over there?"

"The weather inside the vault," said Sherlock drily.

"You could always tell me to mind my own business," said Lestrade with a scowl directed at Sherlock.

"Hmm, dull," responded Sherlock.

Lestrade shook his head while Harry chuckled, finding their interactions amusing.

Sherlock asked Harry if he wanted to learn how to make a mind palace some more and Harry eagerly nodded his head. He obviously didn't want to be plagued by those nightmares any more and John looked Lestrade and could tell that he was planning on looking up how Harry's parents died.

While Sherlock was instructing Harry, John and Lestrade spent the next hour talking about the game that was on in the pub the other night. They didn't set out to meet each other there that night, it was a lucky happenstance. One that they planned to repeat next week - case and murder permitting - as they enjoyed themselves.

After that peaceful hour passed, however, it was interrupted by the Dursley's child saying, rather loudly to his mother, "Mummy, I have to go to the bathroom."

John glanced over and saw all the fizzy drink cans that were around the boy. He probably shouldn't have drank that many and his parents shouldn't have let him when they were trapped in a vault but who was John to criticize a parent?

"Shh, Duddy, you have to hold it for right now," said Mrs. Dursley, trying to be quiet. She obviously didn't want to attract the attention of the hostage-takers again, especially so soon.

"No! I have to go," said Dudley and to the misfortune of everyone in the vault, he started to cry again, though thankfully, it wasn't the loud sobs from before. He had obviously learned a little from what happened before but not much as he still decided to cry.

For the next half hour, Mrs. Dursley tried to calm down her son along with Mr. Dursley and everyone else pretended that they couldn't hear them and continued with what they were doing before they were interrupted.

However, after Sherlock had his concentration broken for a third time after a particularly loud wail, his patience waned and he had to say something though he wasn't the only one wincing anymore.

"Mrs. Dursley," started Sherlock, sounding very pleasant, he normally was very patient with children but this whole family put his teeth on edge, "You need to calm him down."

"What the bloody hell do you think we are trying to do? If he could go to the bathroom, it wouldn't be a problem," said Mr. Dursley.

John could tell that Sherlock was refraining from sighing. Sherlock wasn't even talking to him.

"He is not the only one who has to go," said Sherlock.

Everyone looked at him.

Sherlock really did sigh this time before he said, "There are quite a few of you shifting in your seats. It could be from sitting on the ground but judging by your movements, how often you are moving, how long we've been in here so far, the fact that we've just had more drinks added to our systems, it's obvious that almost everyone in here has to go."

"Dudley is just a child," said Mr. Dursley, daring Sherlock to say anything.

"Harry is younger than your child and has to go as well but you don't hear him saying anything nor crying as much as your son," said Sherlock with narrowed eyes.

"And he won't if he knows what's good for him," mumbled Mr. Dursley.

"Vernon," muttered Mrs. Dursley, obviously tired of her husband trying to pick a fight with everyone and slightly frazzled by her son's crying at this point.

Mr. Dursley let out a noise and crossed his arms across his chest but he didn't say anything more.

"You still have to make him be quite," said Sherlock.

"Wait a second," said James. "The last time he cried they fed us, maybe if he cried louder, they'll let us out to go to the bathroom."

"Or maybe they'll shoot us all," deadpanned Sherlock.

"They didn't manage it the first time they tried," said Mr. Hunt trying to make an argument. "I think we should risk."

"They weren't shooting at you either, were they?" said Sherlock.

"No," added Lestrade and he sounded panicky.

"Why?" asked Mr. Wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We shouldn't antagonize them," said John, trying to calm down all the emotions that were starting to run high.

"No one put the three of you in charge of us," said Mr. Davis.

"You do seem to be winding everyone up," put in Mr. Knight, who had been relatively quite, up until that point.

And then suddenly everyone was arguing with everyone else, which coincidentally made Dudley be quite, with insults being thrown around, voices overlapping. The only ones that were silent were Harry and Dudley and they were watching everyone with wide eyes, for once, in agreement with each other on what was going on.

After ten minutes of arguments, the sound of the vault opening, shut everyone up and they turned, as they all had stood up when they were arguing, to look at the vault.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?" asked the leader angrily.

Everyone was silent for an awkward minute.

"I want an answer right now," said the leader. He pointed his gun at John but addressed Sherlock and said, "You, Mr. Holmes, tell me what happened."

Sherlock sniffed like he was extremely put out, and John noticed that he was standing in front of Harry, and he wondered if Sherlock was aware of doing it or if was subconscious as he keeps doing it.

However, Sherlock said, "We had a slight disagreement on how to get your attention so that we could use the restrooms."

The leader paused for a moment, slightly thrown, as if that situation hadn't occurred to him before he said, "Who has to go?" He was still addressing Sherlock.

"Everyone," said Sherlock, succinctly and straight to the point.

The leader moved the gun over to Mr. Hunt, who backed away slightly from it, and said, "How many loos are there in the bank?"

"J-Just two," said Mr. Hunt with a slight stutter. The gun was making him nervous especially after the leader's associates fired theirs in the vault already.

The leader nodded and said, "Fine. Will go in twos, starting with the two youngest."

"No," said Mrs. Dursley at once.

There was silence before the leader turned towards Mrs. Dursley and said, "No?"

"No. Dudley isn't going by himself with you," said Mrs. Dursley, holding onto her son tight.

John couldn't help but frown slightly in her direction as she didn't even give a thought to her nephew when he was pulled out of the vault at gunpoint.

"Can he use the loo by himself?" asked the leader.

Mrs. Dursley nodded her head once.

"Then you don't get a choice," said the leader and he nodded to two of his accomplices who walked up to both Dudley and Harry and picked them both up, Dudley with slight difficulty due to his size. This time, John felt Sherlock tense up and move his arm over his stomach slightly which caused John to pause for a minute. Maybe, Sherlock wasn't sick. Maybe he was worried?

"We'll be back when they are finished," said the leader and they left, shutting the vault.

"Are you okay?" asked John to Sherlock.

"I am not the one who is with the trigger happy hostage-takers, John, as I told Lestrade when you were gone. So the answer to your question is, I am fine," replied Sherlock.

"You're worried about Harry," said John simply.

"And yet I have no idea why as I've barely known him a few hours," said Sherlock.

"You've made a connection to him. It happens," said Lestrade simply though it looked as if he may have some more information on it though he did not look inclined to share yet.

Sherlock didn't bother to acknowledge what Lestrade said past a slight inclination of his head and the three of them waited in silence while Mrs. Dursley watched the door, talking her husband's ear off about how they took her baby from her and how they might be hurting him.

Five minutes later the vault opened and Dudley and Harry walked in, having obviously been put down at some point. Dudley walked straight in to his mother's arms while Harry returned to stand beside Sherlock, John and Lestrade. Sherlock immediately put his hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him, the move seemingly unconscious on his part, and he felt Harry shaking slightly from nerves. Sherlock squeezed once in comfort.

"Mr. Hunt, Mr. Knight, you are up next," said the leader and his two accomplices pointed their guns at them.

Mr. Hunt and Mr. Knight walked out of the vault, but this time, the leader left his other accomplice at the door to watch the rest of them so he didn't have to keep on opening and closing the vault door.

Five minutes later, just the leader and his accomplices came back.

"Where are Mr. Hunt and Mr. Knight?" asked Mr. Jackson, sounding worried that something happened to them.

The leader looked at him and said, "They have been released in good faith. Though if Scotland Yard doesn't hold their end of the deal…" He trailed off on purpose and everyone understood the implications, except perhaps the two children though judging by their pale faces they understood it just fine.

"Mr. Dursley, Mr. Morgan, you are up next," said the leader and his accomplices, again, pointed their guns at them as they walked out of the vault, the other accomplice standing in front of the vault door watching everyone else.

Then five minutes later they were back and then Mr. Davis and Mrs. Dursley went. Five minutes later they came back and Mr. Jackson and John went (Sherlock was tense the whole time John was gone). Five minutes later they came back and Mr. Wall and Lestrade went (Sherlock, again, was tense the whole time Lestrade was gone, much to his own surprise).

At last five minutes passed and then, "Mr. Holmes, you are the last one. Let's go," said the leader and Sherlock walked out of the vault, his trip to the restroom, uneventful.

Once he returned to the vault, the leader said, "That is the only time you get to go for the evening. So I wouldn't drink any more drinks the rest of the night," he looked over at the Dursleys, "this vault is going to stay shut now until morning, unless Scotland Yard decides not to follow through with their promises. Try to behave and not make me come back in here. You won't like or enjoy the consequences otherwise."

The leader and his accomplices left the vault and shut it behind them, leaving everyone in silence for a few minutes.

Then Harry asked, "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" was the reply as Sherlock turned to look at Harry.

"Can we do more learning for the mind palace?"

Sherlock thought for a moment before he said, "You can't do too much in one day, Harry. Especially for a beginner. You will tire yourself out."

Harry nodded his head and they sunk back into a silence again for a couple of more minutes before Harry needed to ask another question, this time to all three of them.

"Do you think I stopped the bullets earlier?" Harry tried to look at all three of them at once to gauge their response.

"I thought we discussed this earlier?" asked John, sounding slightly confused.

Lestrade didn't say anything he was watching Sherlock and John for their reactions.

"What brought this on?" asked Sherlock, not sure if he was suppose to offer comfort or something else. He was with John on this one. He thought they covered this already.

Harry shrugged and said, "Dudley said something when we went to the bathroom."

"What did he say?" asked Lestrade.

Harry shrugged again and didn't say anything.

Sherlock, John and Lestrade all exchanged a look before John said, "Harry, if you did do something, we are grateful as we would be a lot more hurt if you hadn't and this situation would be going differently for sure."

"It definitely would be," said Sherlock and Lestrade nodded his head in agreement.

Harry looked at them relieved and they spent the next couple of hours talking about lighthearted things and Sherlock mapped out Harry's learning for making his own mind palace, though he would have to call it something else as apparently only Sherlock's brain could be called mind palace. It didn't even seem to enter Sherlock's mind that Harry was going to have to go back with the Dursleys so he would not be able to learn the rest of it. It seemed to John and Lestrade like Sherlock had already claimed guardianship of Harry.

Finally at ten o'clock at night, according to John's wristwatch, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep next to Sherlock, with his head against the wall of the vault.

Sherlock, John and Lestrade looked at Harry for a moment before Lestrade said, "You should move him into a more comfortable position. That's probably not very comfortable for him."

"What would be more comfortable for him?" asked Sherlock, raising an eyebrow at him.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow and said, "Laying him flat for one and probably letting him use something for a pillow."

"Hmm," said Sherlock and he looked at Harry before he looked at John and Lestrade for a few minutes before he said, "Take off your jacket Lestrade."

"Why?" asked Lestrade though he was already taking off his jacket.

"You said Harry needs a pillow and you are the only one of the three of us that has something to spare for him as you have your suit jacket on underneath," responded Sherlock.

Lestrade passed his jacket over to Sherlock, who rolled it up, slid Harry forward a bit, tucked the jacket into his own side before laying Harry flat with his head on the jacket.

After a moment of silence, Sherlock asked, "So this murder scene you wanted me to look at earlier today, you said it was probably related to others you were working on?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah. I didn't get a chance to look at the scene myself before I came and got you so we will probably have to look a photos when we get out of here," responded Lestrade with a yawn.

"Hopefully Anderson didn't ruin anything," said Sherlock and John shook his head at that comment.

Lestrade sighed as if he heard this too often for his liking and said, "Anderson knows how to do his job, Sherlock."

"That remains to be seen," said Sherlock.

As that conversation was carrying on after Harry fell asleep, the others started dropping off and when Lestrade, himself, fell asleep after they had finished their conversation, at ten forty-five only John and Sherlock were left awake. They both sat in a comfortable silence and they could almost pretend they were back at their flat after a busy day at solving a case, if they weren't both sitting in a vault that was.

"Go to sleep, John," said Sherlock and John could tell when Sherlock was making a retreat into his mind palace to think, especially since that is the only escape that Sherlock had in the vault.

John only shook his head and tried to get into a more comfortable position and finally, at midnight, according to his watch, he fell asleep with his head laying against the back of vault. He really hoped this was resolved soon and that was his last thought before he fell asleep.

Five hours later and he abruptly awoke at five o'clock in the morning according to his watch and looking around, only Sherlock was awake, the same as when he went to sleep.

* * *

**A/N2:** So this chapter was initially going to be longer, yes longer, as I was going to finish the bank scene entirely this chapter, I was already up to about 13,000 but as you can see I decided to split the chapter... It was getting just a little too long for me, so the next chapter will tie up everything in the bank and then we will find out what happens next! :) The next chapter is already half way done, by the way so you won't have to wait too long before you find out how everything in the bank was resolved.


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